


Vengeance is Mine

by AltheaG



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Camelot, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Founders fic, Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 20:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltheaG/pseuds/AltheaG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the sudden, violent death of her father, Rowena Ravenclaw wants nothing more than to start her life over and find some peace. Entering Camelot, however, proves to be tremendously risky for the young witch, considering that magic has been declared a capital crime by Camelot's King Uther Pendragon. As Rowena settles into her new life, she cleverly finds her way to become a part of the community, despite her magic. But when a young knight makes his presence known in Camelot, everything changes for Rowena.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Physician and the Witch

**Author's Note:**

> I knew I wanted to write a Founders Era fic, but I wasn't sure how to go about it. Suddenly, I realized that perhaps a crossover with BBC's Merlin might just work. I needed a way of bringing the Founders together, and I thought that the whole atmosphere of Camelot would be a great place for everything to happen. I hope you enjoy the story! Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

A breath of cool air caressed her cheek as she left the palace for the evening, now eager to get home to her mother and brother. It was often like this for Rowena--work in the palace kitchens, lunch with friends, more work until at the seventh hour, she was able to set aside her apron and hurry home.

Rowena never thought in her wildest dreams that a girl of her...talents...would ever become a mere servant. Like all women in the Ravenclaw family, Rowena had been raised with the finest education and manners, learning everything from Greek and Latin to philosophy and mathematics from the very best scholars her parents could afford, which was considerable. Her father, Lorcan, had made a fortune through the use of alchemy and thus was able to provide every luxury for his only daughter.

But Lorcan also made sure that his daughter was well educated in the longtime family tradition--magic.

* * * * *

As a small girl, growing up in a magical household seemed normal and natural. While the servants of the house did not possess magic, both of Rowena's parents did, and they made sure that she learned as much as she could. The precocious Rowena received her very first wand at only eight years old, and before long, she had mastered the most refined magic, both with and without her wand. After her mother's early death, Rowena dedicated herself even more to the study of magic, in many ways as a remembrance of all her mother had taught her for so long. Lorcan took great pleasure in watching Rowena develop all her gifts, both magical and intellectual, and he continued to spare no expense in helping her along.

But then came the Great Purge. King Uther Pendragon, once a friend to magic, suddenly turned his wrath on all things and all people who possessed even the slightest trace of magic, making it absolutely illegal to practice any sort of sorcery throughout the kingdom of Camelot. Lorcan had no choice but to take all his possessions and especially all his magical artifacts and trinkets and abscond with Rowena to a faraway place where they would be safe from Uther. It broke his heart to hear of so many horror stories of wizards and sorceresses hunted down and executed like dogs. Story after story of atrocities committed at the hands of the tyrant reached all witches and wizards throughout the Island of Albion, sending a deathly chill throughout the entire community.

"Camelot is a cursed place for us, my dear," Lorcan told Rowena again and again.

"But they don't have to know about us, right, Father?"

"They'll know."

"How?"

"They just will. They always find out."

But Rowena wondered about that, even as she continued her education in their new home. Now living by the sea, Rowena had made a few new friends and even caught the attentions of some of the local gentry. As she matured and grew in beauty, many young men proposed marriage to her, none of them knowing who or what she truly was. And when she reluctantly refused them all, she knew she could never explain why. The danger was far too great and she had no idea of how far Uther's reach could possibly be. Better to be safe and alive, even if she did have to hide her magical identity.

Still, Rowena never stopped thinking about Camelot, even if she couldn't live there, at least not as a witch. News came, too, less of purges and atrocities now, and more of the elegance and peace that now prevailed throughout Camelot. Uther's son, Arthur, had grown into a talented fighter, by all accounts, even if he had also become something of a spoilt brat. From what she heard from visiting minstrels and bards and other travelers, this young Arthur was also greatly admired, mostly because he seemed so different from his father. That gave Rowena hope.

And then tragedy struck, brutally and decisively. One lovely Spring day, just as the new blossoms emerged from their winter slumber and the hills and vales had become a vivid green, Lorcan took off on his horse for a quiet day of fishing by the river and talking a leisurely stroll along its banks. He often did this, just to get away from the pressures of business for a few precious hours, returning revived and refreshed and ready for a new day of alchemical research.

He was not expecting a band of hunters that day, and when they shot a crossbow at a deer and missed, accidentally hitting Lorcan in the back, he never had time to apparate out of the line of fire. Horrified at what they had done, the hunters rushed to the fallen man, but seeing that he was already dead, they ran, fearing being executed for murder. It was only when a local blacksmith, Ruairi, found Lorcan a day later that a very distraught Rowena learned of her father's fate. She wailed and screamed and broke every glass in the house before collapsing to the floor, spent from profound grief and shock.

Ruairi didn't quite know what to do. He was a blacksmith, not a physician! All he could do was rush to the inn where he knew a visitor was staying--he had heard through various conversations that this visitor was a physician from some distant place. Ruairi didn't care where, but only that this man could help Rowena recover from this collapse. Thankfully, the man showed great sympathy. Ruairi cold only hope that he was as good a physician as he was sympathetic.

"Thank you so much, sir," Ruairi said as they rushed along to the Ravenclaw home. "Rowena is such a special girl, and I'd hate to see anything bad happen to her."

"Well she certainly has a good friend in you, sir," the physician replied. His little bag of potions clinked as they finally entered the house.

Standing at the threshold, the physician could only stare in wonder. The Ravenclaw home was as luxurious as any in that day, with rich tapestries covering the stone walls and Persian rugs on the dark wood floors in nearly every room. Everywhere he looked, the physician saw rare antiquities, beautiful paintings and gold. Lots of gold. He also noticed something else--on a long table in the main room, a parchment was laid out, held down on its corners by a mortar, pestle and a glass phial. The physician frowned as he glanced briefly at the series of symbols arranged on the parchment, symbols denoting all the elements in nature.

"Where is the girl?" he asked.

* * * * *

Rowena laid on her bed, frozen by trauma, incapable of thought or speech or comfort of any kind. Ruairi lit a few extra candles around the bedchamber as the physician fumbled through his bag, taking out several glass bottles and phials and powders and other strange things. Ruairi was sure he saw something that looked like a beetle.

"Ruairi, if you would please get me some water. I shall need quite a lot of it. I believe there is a bucket right outside?"

"Right away, sir," Ruairi said, rushing out.

Now alone, the physician turned to the still prostrate Rowena. He felt her forehead--cold. He looked into her eyes--bloodshot but otherwise healthy. He felt her thyroid, pressed her abdomen and looked into her ears. Normal. He took out a little purple fluid from one of the phials, swirled it about for two minutes until it turned a soft lavender, and then pressed it to her lips, tipping the fluid into her mouth. Within seconds, her complexion warmed and her eyes brightened. She groaned a little as the physician helped her to sit up.

"What was that?" she croaked, wincing as the candlelight hit her tired eyes.

"Just a little restorative. My own concoction. I'm sure it's nothing to what your father could do with lead."

Rowena frowned. "You know my father? I've never seen you before in my life! Who are you?"

"My name is Gaius, and I am a physician." He paused. "I am, however, familiar with your father's art, though I have never practiced it myself."

"What are you then?"

"I am merely a physician. I believe the more important question is what are you?"

She blanched for a moment, then squared her shoulders. "I am my father's daughter. Nothing more."

"Has he trained you in his art?"

"Why do you wish to know that? This isn't Camelot, you know. I'm free to do what I wish!"

Gaius nodded. "True."

Rowena's face fell. "But no. He never taught me."

"I'm sorry to hear of his passing," Gaius said.

"Thank you."

"Do you know what you'll do now? Are you on your own?"

"I'm of age, but yes, I'm on my own. I don't really know what I'll do."

Gaius gave her a gentle smile. "A beautiful young woman like you? I'm sure you'll marry before long, populate Albion with children and live a good life."

"Marriage would be...challenging for someone like me."

"Why? You have wealth, beauty, intelligence."

"My father is...was...an alchemist! Even if this isn't Camelot, he still kept his art to himself. You never know what someone like Uther Pendragon might do. I could see someone like him using people like m...like my father to control other kingdoms, threatening violence unless they purge their own sorcerers!"

"Uther's only concern is Camelot, my dear," Gaius replied. "He is very aware of relations with the other kingdoms, and I doubt he would do something that risky unless he felt truly threatened."

Rowena scowled. "Maybe." But... "How do you know so much about Uther Pendragon?"

Gaius looked her in the eye. "I am his personal physician."

Her spine stiffened and her blood ran cold. "Get out," she seethed.

"My lady..."

"Who do you think you are? Get out of here!"

"I didn't mean to..."

"What are you? Some sort of spy or something? Why are you even here, so far away from your home? Get out!"

"I am traveling on business, my lady, nothing more. I am here because I was needed. My lady, I would never betray you to Uther, believe me."

"Wouldn't you? I don't even know you! I don't know whether you're trustworthy!"

Before they could go on, Ruairi finally returned with a huge bucked filled to the very brim with fresh, cold water. He also returned with his wife, Enid. The two of them plunked down the heavy bucket with a slosh, relieved to see Rowena awake and her usual fiery self again--but her expression of anger bewildered them. It must be the trauma of losing Lorcan that mixed up her emotions, they reasoned.

"What's this?" Enid exclaimed. "Good sir, what have you done to make her so upset?"

"He's from Camelot!" Rowena shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Gaius. "He's trying to entrap me, snare me so he can turn me over to that tyrant, Uther!"

"Why would he want to entrap you?" Enid asked. "You ain't no witch. Honey, you're exhausted. You've suffered a terrible loss. Please, just rest and let the physician help you. He's a good man, truly! I've heard nothing but praise about him for the least three days and..."

Rowena rounded on Gaius. "You've been in town for THREE DAYS?"

"My horse is lame," Gaius replied defencively. "I've had to rest him for a few days. Surely you can understand that. You have nothing to fear from me. Uther regards me merely as a servant, and little more. And he certainly wouldn't give a servant a hearing about anything...dodgy several kingdoms away."

"Dodgy?" Enid asked. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Enid," Rowena replied brusquely. She sighed. "Just a misunderstanding."

The next day, after several more hours of rest and a little food, Rowena awoke feeling much better. Still mourning the loss of her father, she nonetheless felt well enough to leave her bed, get dressed and take a little walk through town. She didn't plan on running into Gaius, however. There he was, leaving the stables, heading off towards the riverside she figured. Rowena decided to follow him, her mind filled with questions. As bitter as she felt about Uther Pendragon and his edict against magic, there was something about Camelot that drew her in. Knowing that this Gaius was from there piqued her interest keenly.

Rowena caught his eye and waved. Thankfully he waved back, stopping to let her catch up with him.

"You look much better!" he said eagerly. "So well recovered."

"Healed in body and mind, I think," she replied. "Gaius, I wish to apologise for yesterday. I was beastly towards you. You came to help me and I ended up taking your head off!"

"I don't blame you, to be honest," he said. Together, they wandered off into the woods, making their way slowly towards the river. Rowena noticed how deliberately Gaius walked, as if he were studying every new breath of nature like an ancient tome.

"So how did you end up as a physician?" she asked.

"I apprenticed for it as a boy, actually. I came to Camelot about twenty years ago or so..."

"Before the Purge?"

"Yes, before the Purge. Those were terrible times."

"They were. I used to live near Camelot, actually, as a girl. We moved, for obvious reasons."

Gaius nodded. "That was a wise move on your father's part." He stopped. "Did he ever teach you any..."

"I already told you, he never taught me alchemy," Rowena shot back. "What about you? Physicians have a bit of a reputation when it comes to that stuff...to magic."

"I admit I dabbled in it a long time ago."

"And yet Uther hasn't had you killed?"

"I renounced magic before the Purge."

Rowena scowled. "To save your life?"

Gaius nodded reluctantly. "Somewhat. There is much in Uther that is good, despite his attitude toward magic. He has brought very good things to Camelot in the last several years, so don't discount him entirely. Some see him as a tyrant but most do not."

"Most people don't have magic," Rowena reasoned.

"True." He chuckled. "You know, there are still sorcerers and warlocks and even Druids still living in the region, but they know how to keep their heads down and their magic a secret."

"And do you know of any of them personally?"

"I keep a safe distance."

"And if I, Rowena Ravenclaw, daughter of Lorcan Ravenclaw, the notorious alchemist, presented myself at Uther's court to ask for a place in his society, what would he do? How fast would he burn me at the stake?"

"Who's to say he would?"

"Ravenclaw isn't an unknown name in Camelot."

"True. But who's to say you need to introduce yourself as a Ravenclaw?" He gave her a sly wink and turned toward the river.

What if? That night as she ate a solitary dinner of stew and vegetables, Rowena allowed her mind to wander where she knew all too well it should never go. Thoughts of the great castle at the centre of Camelot entranced her mind as she hadn't allowed it to in years. She could smell the treetops and the tall grasses and the sweet yellow flowers that graced the fields all around Camelot.

But how? After all, it was much more than simply being the daughter of an alchemist. Uther couldn't do anything to her necessarily, despite her origins. On the other hand, as a witch, Rowena stood in mortal danger should she dare to enter Camelot and try to find a place in that pristine society. Gaius' words to her haunted her more than she was willing to admit. Present herself not as a Ravenclaw...but then as what? Rowena supposed she could make up a name, or use some distant relative's name. That wouldn't be a total lie.

Maybe it would work.


	2. The Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He came out of nowhere, or so it seemed to a startled Rowena, sword drawn, an angry look on his rather handsome face._
> 
> _"State your purpose, miss," the boy declared strongly. He squared his shoulders defiantly, which Rowena found secretly amusing._
> 
> _"I'm new to these parts," Rowena replied._
> 
> _"How came you to these woods?"_
> 
> _"On my horse, naturally."_
> 
> _The boy's face reddened slightly, but he quickly resheathed his sword. "Well clearly, I can't allow for a woman to pass alone through these woods. Too many bandits and Druids around, unfortunately."_
> 
> _"I'll be fine, young man," Rowena said. "Your concern is noted."_
> 
> _The boy looked upward at the sky and frowned. "Well, I need to be getting back anyway. I should like to escort you at least to the main road, if not farther. Where do you go?"_
> 
> _"To Camelot, sir, " Rowena replied._

Camelot.

Just the mere mention of the great kingdom brought back so many thoughts and memories for Rowena. She wanted to believe Gaius, that it would be good for her to return. On the other hand, it would mean keeping her identity as a witch a total secret. Even Gaius didn't really know what she was capable of, and now, as Rowena thought harder about the prospect of returning to Camelot, that would mean having to hide herself even more. But did she really want that? True, she was careful even around her neighbours far away from Camelot, however, she knew that should the need arise, she had trusted friends to whom she could confess anything.

Besides Gaius, who did she really know in Camelot? No one. Only eight when they fled the kingdom, the hadn't been back since then, nor did the Ravenclaws keep in contact with anyone remotely associated with Camelot. In fact, Lorcan had moved his family so far away specifically to avoid any possibility of running across even the most distant acquaintance. 

But it would be refreshing to return, despite the risk, or maybe because of the risk. Rowena had much to share with the community. She was highly educated, refined, well-mannered, knowledgeable of all the most current dances and music. Rowena could cook, too, though she used magic for that--that would be out of the question in Camelot. But perhaps some noblewoman would need a lady-in-waiting or a companion or a teacher for her daughters. Rowena's hopes brightened at that. Yes, maybe going to Camelot would be an excellent idea, a perfect match for someone of such elegance.

What to do with all of Lorcan's things? What to do with his alchemical equipment and papers and charts and everything else? That would have to go, though she felt slightly tempted to pass some of those writings on to Gaius--he might find them at least educational, though he'd have to hide them very carefully just in case Uther's guard came sniffing around for anything damning. Rowena moved her fingers gently over the old parchments, feeling her father's essence in every symbol assiduously charted and described and enumerated. How could she simply cast these away or burn them like rubbish?

Making sure the shutters were tightly closed, Rowena pulled out her wand, and with a quick flick and an "Eopera!" and just like that, a small brown leather traveling bag appeared on Lorcan's long worktable. With a circular motion of her wand over the bag, Rowena whispered, "Velieris," three times until a yellow gleam enshrouded both the bag, her wand and the entire table. 

Satisfied with her work, Rowena started to pack up everything she owned--clothes, shoes, cosmetics, hair adornments, jewels, books, papers, magical artifacts, food, and of course, all of Lorcan's gold--she placed everything inside the conjured bag, then conjured a second bag, into which she packed up all the furniture and other large items in the entire house. She felt half tempted to put her horse inside a third bag, but decided she didn't want the mess. One would expect her to ride her horse to Camelot, however, Rowena had no intention of doing such a thing. Apparation was so much faster, and she was eager to get the next part of her life going. Thus, she needed a quick solution, but a secret one.

The next morning, after eating a solitary, solemn breakfast of eggs, bacon and hot bread, all of which she conjured with her wand, Rowena sat back in the one chair she hadn't yet packed, thinking about what would happen to her now that she really was returning to Camelot. Where would she live? Would she find a little house somewhere or would she conjure one? And if she conjured one, would people notice? Yes, she was sure they would. The people of Camelot were likely hypersensitive to any use of magic, considering the extreme penalty. No, she would have to be careful if she were to survive.

Rowena took one last look at her house, where she had been so happy for so long, then took up her two bags and left, not bothering to lock the door behind her. Sure to leave nothing remotely magical or alchemical behind, it didn't matter to Rowena whether some squatter decided to take the place--she had everything that was important to her in her bags. Fastening her bags to the back of her saddle, she mounted her dapple grey horse and rode off, deep into the woods nearby. She knew she would miss this lovely stretch of valley and river, but she would also love the more beautiful land around Camelot. While Camelot held some bad memories for her, so did this place--Lorcan had been horribly killed and left for dead here, after all, and that was a memory Rowena was eager to leave far behind.

The sunlight sparkled through the morning leaves that rustled in the breeze that day. Within her heart and mind, the farther she rode, the more confident Rowena felt that she was truly doing the right thing. By the time she reached her appointed spot, just within an ivy-covered cave, Rowena could barely wait. Pulling her wand from within her white traveling cloak, with deliberation, destination and determination, Rowena, the horse and all her worldly belongings vanished.

* * * * *

"What was that?" a man's voice rang out. A young man's voice.

"I didn't hear anything, sire."

"Are you deaf or just stupid?"

"Sorry, sire."

"So are we going to search out the source of the noise together or are you content to take a nap whilst I go?"

"Coming, sire."

Rowena held her breath--she hadn't expected anyone to be around in the grove where she apparated. Still on her horse, bags still with her, Rowena had to think fast. This male, this "sire" was undoubtedly Uther's son, Arthur. How old would he be by now? She supposed he was maybe fifteen, sixteen perhaps, but no more than that. What would a boy be doing out in the woods alone like that? Then again, he probably didn't see her apparate, though he heard her. She could come up with some explanation that he'd believe. Of that Rowena felt certain--the boy seemed so intent on insulting his servant that he probably wouldn't take too much notice of a young woman riding idly through the woods on her horse. 

He came out of nowhere, or so it seemed to a startled Rowena, sword drawn, an angry look on his rather handsome face.

"State your purpose, miss," the boy declared strongly. He squared his shoulders defiantly, which Rowena found secretly amusing.

"I'm new to these parts," Rowena replied.

"How came you to these woods?"

"On my horse, naturally."

The boy's face reddened slightly, but he quickly resheathed his sword. "Well clearly, I can't allow for a woman to pass alone through these woods. Too many bandits and Druids around, unfortunately."

"I'll be fine, young man," Rowena said. "Your concern is noted."

The boy looked upward at the sky and frowned. "Well, I need to be getting back anyway. I should like to escort you at least to the main road, if not farther. Where do you go?"

"To Camelot, sir, " Rowena replied.

"Ah! Well that's my destination as well. I shall ride with you, then." He eyed her carefully, then laughed. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

Rowena smiled. "Well, I might be wrong, but my guess is that you are a prince."

"Intelligent and perceptive as well as beautiful! I like that in a woman."

Rowena laughed.

The boy went on. "So what was it about me that made you think I'm a prince? Is it my bearing? My profile?" He turned his head to the side, allowing Rowena to look at his profile. "Or was it my manner of speech perhaps? My ability to wield a sword to protect a lady?"

Rowena grinned. "I believe it was your servant, young sir. He called you 'sire,' did he not?"

He reddened again. "She has sharp senses as well. Very lovely."

"Thank you, sire."

"I am Prince Arthur, son of King Uther of Camelot. And do you have a name?"

She paused. "Rowena."

"Rowena. Lovely name. Lovely lady."

"That seems to be your favorite word, sire."

"I'm inspired. What else can one say around such dark beauty?"

Rowena felt half tempted to tell him right away that at twenty-three, she was far too old for him, however, she decided to hold her tongue for now. The young Prince Arthur seemed to be having way too much fun flirting with her, and truth be told, she rather enjoyed being flattered by a complete stranger. The glum, blond, unnamed servant rode behind them, saying nothing—Rowena wondered about him just a little. Would he look at her too closely, see some sort of magic within her that she couldn't quite hide? Rowena hoped not.

Within just a short time, the three of them reached the looming gates of Camelot—Rowena couldn't suppress an audible gasp as she laid eyes on the majestic turrets and arches and tall windows that graced the palace. Everywhere she looked she saw trees and shrubbery and flowers in reds and golds and brilliant whites. The entire place looked like something out of a storybook—she hoped this story would have a happy ending. Arthur laughed.

"It's nice, isn't it."

All she could do was nod.

"Look, Rowena, do you have a place to stay? Do you have friends here?"

"I know only one person, that is, besides yourself, sire. I met your court physician not long ago when he stopped in my village to rest his horse."

"Ah! You know Gaius! He's a bit of an odd sort, but my father really relies on him." He paused. "Yes, that's right. Gaius went off on some errand a while back and he returned four days late. Father wasn't too happy with that."

"Why is that?"

"It's not really your place to know. Plus, Father never exactly explains himself to me. He doesn't have to."

Rowena shrugged. "I suppose not. It is the king's prerogative to keep his reasons to himself."

"Come meet him," Arthur insisted. "I'm sure he'll be happy to welcome such an extraordinary woman such as yourself to Camelot. Perhaps he'll even give you a place at court."

"I don't expect such treatment, sire," Rowena replied. The prospect of meeting the tyrant Uther Pendragon didn't set with her too well. She would much rather have found Gaius and then searched out a place to live, but Arthur wouldn't take no for an answer.

"My servant will carry your bags for you," Arthur said, snapping his fingers at the servant, who immediately dismounted from his small brown packhorse and moved to assist Arthur as he dismounted from his own, splendid charger.

"You idiot!" Arthur spat. "I can get off my own horse! Help the lady!"

"Right, sire." The servant rushed to Rowena, taking her hand in his own, surprisingly soft hand and helped her to the stone pavement below. When he turned to take her bags, Rowena flinched, hoping he wouldn't look inside them. "Is this alright, my lady?" the servant asked.

"It's fine, Cieran," Arthur replied impatiently. "Take them to Gaius' rooms for right now, as the lady knows him, then stable her palfrey."

"You're very kind, sire," Rowena said.

Arthur gave her a quick wink. "Anything for a lady."

She wondered whether that were true. Arthur seemed...nice...in his own bratty way. True, he was rather sharp with the servant, Cieran, but then again, that's how he was raised. But he was also the son of Uther, which made Rowena extremely doubtful of him. What sorts of lessons about life did this young man take in, sitting at his father's feet all these years? What had Arthur been trained to believe? And were he to find out that she was a witch, would he be so quick to be a flatterer?

* * * * *

The inside of the palace was even more grand than the outside. As Rowena gazed at all the finery, the beautiful tapestries, the heraldry, the ceremonial suits of armour at every turn, she started to understand this Arthur just a little more. Yes, there was luxury and privilege here, but there was also tradition, duty, responsibility, obligation, a heavy burden for such young shoulders. Yet Arthur moved so comfortably in this environment, so naturally and with such ease. Rowena felt certain that he must have had his moments of doubt and stress, but she could also see that Arthur possessed an extremely rare quality--self-knowledge. He had no choice but to know himself, knowing what his future would be.

Maybe it was some quality about Camelot that made this so, too. Maybe now that Rowena was here, she could finally settle down and obtain for herself that same self-knowledge. On the other hand, how much could she do when she had to conceal her very identity? 

These troubled thoughts stayed with her as they made their way up to the king's court, where they were greeted not only by the tyrant himself, but by a young girl about Arthur's age, and a bevy of knights, hangers-on, higher-ups and a handful of servants, including Gaius. Rowena smiled at the one person she recognised--looking at Uther for the first time, however, chilled her blood.

Uther's looks surprised Rowena more than a little. He was taller than Gaius, and for a man his age seemed extremely vigourous and vital. Uther had quick green eyes that penetrated her own, dark eyes, and his face bore a jagged scar across his forehead, no doubt from some fierce battle in the distant past. While Gaius was all calmness and intellectual and contemplative, Uther was all energy and strength and great power. Rowena could see immediately that this was not a man to cross. She wondered how Arthur managed around such a father.

Arthur stepped forward, giving his father a respectful bow. "Your Majesty, I met the lady Rowena whilst hunting in the woods this afternoon."

"Goodness, son," Uther replied. "I can only hope you weren't attempting to hunt down beautiful women for mere sport." The entourage laughed obediently.

"She seemed to come from nowhere, Your Majesty," Arthur replied promptly.

"Surely she did not appear out of thin air," Uther rejoined. The entourage laughed again. "The lady may speak for herself, that is, unless she lacks a voice?"

"Certainly not, my lord," Rowena said, more submissively than she felt. "I come from a faraway place and simply got lost. I am grateful that the prince was there to rescue me."

"Indeed," Uther said. "There are many perils in the woods, unfortunately including Druids. Are you familiar with the Druids, Rowena?"

"I am not, my lord," Rowena said. "Naturally one hears of them, but I have never encountered one."

Uther nodded, seemingly satisfied. "And let us hope you do not. Tell me, Rowena, what do you seek here in Camelot? I'm sure you didn't come such a long distance to be rescued by my son."

"No indeed, sir. I seek a place here in Camelot, actually. I have..."

Uther silenced her with a wave of his hand. "You have done a great service to my son, Rowena, and you should be justly rewarded."

"What great service?"

Uther grinned slightly. "You let him feel like he actually rescued a damsel in distress." The entourage laughed once again, but a mortified Arthur blushed hotly. "He's been going on about the subject since he was thirteen!" Uther went on. "I shouldn't have let him read so much."

"Your Majesty, I am very well educated and I..."

But Uther silenced her again. "We do not require female educators. However, a place in the household is needed. We recently lost our very finest chef, and her place needs filling."

"Sir, I..."

"Excellent, then," Uther said, nodding to a servant at his right hand. "Amaethon, make a note of that. This Rowena...what is your family name?"

"Just Rowena."

Uther scowled briefly. "Well then, this Rowena with no family shall be assigned to the palace kitchens where she will take charge of things and make sure everything is running properly."

Without another word, Uther motioned for the guards to open the doors, and with a nod of his head, instructed Amaethon to escort Rowena to her new place of work. Rowena barely had a chance to say another word to anyone in the room before she was quickly shuttled out, then down stairs, then down more stairs and then down even more stairs. Greeted by the smells of baking bread and roasted meats, Rowena quickly understood that it was time to get to work and to worry about the details later.


	3. Of Merlin and Magic and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Not satisfied with her position in the palace kitchens, Rowena tries to make the best of the situation. With the arrival of the young sorcerer, Merlin, however, Rowena finds new reasons to be intrigued. This is disrupted not only by the Lady Morgana's nightmares, but by Rowena's own magical solution to the problem. Has she created an impossible situation for herself?_

He was an odd-looking sort, just a kid, really. Sweet, well, in his own way. Big ears, too, which Rowena found slightly amusing. One thing Rowena knew for certain about Gaius’ new assistant was that this was no ordinary young man. 

Rowena hadn’t been around a great number of magical individuals in her life, especially now that she had taken up residence in Camelot, where magic was a capital crime. All the same, she could sense its presence, even when most others could not. From time to time these last five years, this ability allowed her to be of assistance to the few witches and wizards she encountered. It wasn’t that Rowena had set out to be some sort of anarchistic radical or anything, yet she found herself more or less compelled to help out where she could.

Unfortunately, she was unable to help everyone. There would be no saving Thomas Collins, for example. Though Rowena didn’t know him well, she knew that his magic was mostly harmless, mostly basic spells he used for everyday life—such could not be said for Thomas’ mother, however. Extremely eccentric and more than a little dodgy, the woman became almost monstrous after her son’s execution. Rowena tried to be a little understanding, yet the violence of the woman’s speech in the town square made Rowena too unsettled to be sympathetic.

That was the same day this new young man, this Merlin, came into Camelot. His magic was so potent, so blisteringly powerful that Rowena felt the energy of the air shift upon his approach, becoming sharp and crisp and electric. Surely this was no ordinary wizard, which filled Rowena with great fear and a little sadness, too. Here was yet another who would be forced to hide his true self from those around him in order to avoid the chopping block. Would things ever change so long as Uther Pendragon ruled Camelot?

One sunny day, after Merlin had somehow won the alleged privilege of becoming Prince Arthur’s personal servant, he came down to the kitchens in order to collect his master’s provisions for the day. Rowena knew he was coming before he ever showed his face, however—the candles all around the kitchens flickered wildly for a moment, then became perfectly still the second Merlin bounded into the room.

“Aren’t you Gaius’ assistant?” Rowena asked, telling the two bakers to take their morning break.

Merlin scowled. “I was, but then I got demoted.”

Rowena laughed. “Demoted? What did you do to get demoted?”

He shrugged. “Pulled the Prince out of the way of a dagger headed for his heart. All I can say is that King Uther has an odd sense of humour.”

Rowena indicated for him to take a seat, which he did. Turning her back on him for a quick moment, she conjured a goblet of water, hoping he didn’t see what she’d just done. As Merlin drank, Rowena busied herself filling a basket with fresh bread, some choice cuts of pork and chicken, and cutting off a large chunk of cheese.

“Does his highness wish some wine?” she asked.

Merlin paused. “Maybe not. He’s bad enough sober.”

She laughed again. “You really don’t like your new job, do you?”

“It’s just…I thought I’d be something…I didn’t exactly come here to become a servant.”

Rowena nodded and sat across from him. “To be honest, neither did I. Frankly, I thought I’d be able to use my education, but as it turns out, only men are qualified to do that.”

Merlin scowled again. “Typical. I always learned from women, never from men.”

“Well yes, but you’re not exactly the typical person.”

Merlin eyed her cautiously. “No, I’m pretty typical, actually. Extremely typical.”

Rowena nodded. “Right. So am I.”

Merlin looked at her quizzically, then drained the rest of his goblet, took up the basket of food and turned to leave.

“Merlin, some of that food is for you,” Rowena reminded him. “Portion out a little for yourself before you take this to the Prince.”

“Right. Thanks.”

Rowena watched him go. She sighed, wondering whether she should have said something to him. True, she barely knew Merlin, yet she had a powerful desire to reveal her magic to him. In fact, she felt a bit like a traitor to herself by concealing her magic—then again, she sensed that he would eventually figure it out, whether by circumstance or time. Rowena wondered whether Merlin sensed her magic as keenly as she sensed his. She hoped he did, if only so that she might not be so alone with her secret.

* * * * *

Merlin was a terrible servant, a nearly complete failure, something which Prince Arthur liked to remind him of on a daily basis. Most days, Merlin took his verbal jousting as well as he could, knowing that Arthur wasn’t raised like other men—he did everything he could to understand Arthur’s strong sense of entitlement, mostly because he quickly figured out that the smallest complaint might get him into a lot of trouble.

As a result, Merlin found great solace in his daily chats with Rowena in the kitchens. Together they would drink some herbal infusion of hers and commiserate about the trials and tribulations of unexpected servitude. To Rowena, this was simply a chance to vent her frustrations, though she often wondered whether what she and Merlin said to each other could be misconstrued as something worse. That little nagging concern didn’t keep either of them from talking at length. Rowena appreciated Merlin’s outspokenness and his inability to hide his deepest feelings. At the same time, however, neither spoke of magic. Neither dared.

One of Rowena’s favourite excursions each week was visiting Gaius’ herb garden. She was convinced that he had the very best basil and thyme and rosemary in the kingdom, and so she used that as an excuse to stop by frequently. But her real reason for stopping by was to talk about Merlin, and about magic. Knowing when Merlin wasn’t around was easy—the air felt normal, peaceful, gentle. It was only when he returned that all his magical chaos came with him—in truth, Rowena found it difficult to be around that level of magic. Even her own father didn’t possess that kind of power, and Lorcan was extremely powerful.

It took a little doing, but Rowena finally got Gaius to admit to her that Merlin was a wizard.

“How does he keep anyone from knowing?” she asked.

Gaius rolled his eyes at that. “I have no idea, to be honest. I’ve never seen someone be so entirely reckless with his magic as Merlin and yet so successful at keeping his identity a secret.”

“Maybe he enchants the mind,” Rowena suggested. “My father knew a Confundus spell that worked extremely well.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “And did he pass that on to you?”

“No, he didn’t.” Rowena decided not to mention that it was her mother who taught her that particular spell.

“I thought most spells were uttered in the language of the old religion,” Gaius mused. “Back in the days I studied the art, that was how it was done.”

“Maybe it’s a different kind of magic. I know whenever my father incanted spells, they always sounded more Latinic.”

“Odd that an alchemist would use a different brand of magic like that.”

“I suppose. Then again, he learned from his own father, and that’s how he learned.”

“Is your family originally from Albion, or are they from the Continent?” Gaius asked.

“My mother was Ashkenazi and my father, from what I know, always had his origins here in Albion. The Ravenclaws lived in Camelot for generations, until they were wiped out by Uther.”

Gaius leaned forward, looking Rowena directly in the eye. “You know, Rowena, Merlin admires you greatly, in fact, I think he has a little crush on you.”

Rowena laughed at that. “I’m too old for him! Surely he knows that! He can’t be more than seventeen!”

Gaius laughed. “Just be careful what you say, even around him. Merlin will always keep your secrets, of course, however, he is Arthur’s servant. If Arthur or even Uther were to suspect you of something, Merlin might be compelled to reveal the contents of your conversations.”

“Why would Arthur suspect anything, Gaius?” Rowena asked, now leaning forward herself.

He indicated a little bulge under her cloak. “That.”

Rowena blanched, horrified that the tip of the handle of her wand peeked out of her dress pocket. She quickly pushed it down, out of sight.

“Please don’t tell me that is a ceremonial wand, Rowena,” Gaius said gravely.

Rowena squared her shoulders. “Alright. I won’t.”

“Does Merlin know that you are a sorceress?” Gaius asked, barely whispering the last word.

“How did you know, Gaius?”

Gaius sat back now, keeping his eyes on hers. “I only suspected. I supposed that a powerful alchemist such as Lorcan Ravenclaw would keep it in the family.”

“I told you, he never taught me alchemy!” Rowena insisted.

“Perhaps, however, that doesn’t mean he didn’t teach you other things.”

A rush of panic tore through her heart. “Gaius, you’ve got to promise me you won’t say a word of this, even to Merlin!”

He reached across the table and patted her hand. “Rowena, I consider you to be a good friend and frankly, you’re the best executive chef the palace has had in a generation!”

She smirked at that. “You do know I don’t do a scrap of the cooking, I mean, how could I? My mother taught me to cook, but only with magic. Thank the gods I have an excellent staff!”

Before they could continue their conversation, a knock came at the door, which Gaius stood up to answer. Gwen, the servant of the king’s ward, Morgana, rushed in, looking troubled and distressed.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Gaius,” Gwen started, struggling to catch her breath. “The Lady Morgana is in a terrible state! She needs you now!”

Gaius frowned. “More bad dreams?”

“I don’t know what to do, Gaius. She’s babbling nonsensically and I’m afraid she might do some violence to herself!”

“Goodness!” Gaius exclaimed, snatching up his medical bag.

“May I come with you?” Rowena asked. “My father knew a fair bit about such things. Perhaps I can assist?”

* * * * *

The palace at Camelot could be a very cold place, with so much stone everywhere. Despite the warmth of the tapestries and luxurious Persian rugs, Rowena always felt more than a little chilly there, even in the heat of summer. How different then, were the private rooms of the Lady Morgana! As Rowena entered with Gaius, a new feeling of elegance and refinement took her over—everything from the silken bedcovers to the flowers on the tables to the scent of perfumes entranced her senses. But…

Something else caught Rowena’s attention as she shut the heavy door behind her with a rumble. The air had shifted, be it ever so slightly, yet it was different. At first, Rowena attributed this change to the open window and the sunshine pouring in. Furthermore, even the flowers had an energy of their own, something that gave Rowena a feeling of peace. But as the Lady Morgana approached frantically, relieved to see Gaius once again, Rowena felt something different.

She felt magic.

It should have been alright, but of course, this was Camelot, where such things were forbidden. Morgana practically threw herself at Gaius’ feet, weeping openly and wildly. Horrified, Gaius and Gwen lifted her to her feet and helped her to her bed. Morgana wept and wept, nearly incapable of speech.

“Is it your nightmares, my lady?” Gaius asked. He reached into his cloak to take out a small phial, filled with a yellowish fluid.

“I…I…It’s’ so…” Morgana sputtered.

“It’s so what?” Gaius asked. He tried to get her to drink the potion, but she batted his hand away, weeping anew.

“Gaius,” Rowena interjected. “Perhaps I can sit with the Lady Morgana? Perhaps a woman’s touch is needed here?”

Gaius scowled, but he stood up. “I shall return in an hour with a restorative for you, my Lady.”

“Perhaps Gwen can help you with that?” Rowena suggested. “I believe Merlin is busy with the Prince today. Hunting again.”

Gaius scowled again, but relented. “Gwen, perhaps you can help me choose some herbs?”

“Of course, Gaius,” Gwen replied. Giving Morgana a look of deep concern, she left the room with Gaius. Rowena and Morgana were now alone.

Rowena turned to Morgana, who still wept and moaned with some terrible grief. “My Lady, if you could please close your eyes?” Rowena asked as submissively as she could manage.

Morgana continued to weep, until finally, Rowena knelt down before her and took hold of her gently by the shoulders. Looking deep into Morgana’s green eyes, Rowena repeated her request.

“Close your eyes, my Lady. Please.” She held Morgana’s gaze, thinking in her mind “Finite incantatum.”

The weeping stopped. Morgana looked troubled for a moment, then nodded and closed her eyes.

Rowena pulled out her wand, first pointing it at the door, whispering, “Colloportus.” A shaft of light engulfed the door so that it was now locked tight. Next, she pressed her wand against Morgana’s heart, this time whispering, “Tranquillus.” A warm blue light surrounded Morgana for a quick moment, then snaked itself into her ears and her nose.

Morgana shivered, then opened her eyes, only giving Rowena just enough time to her wand behind her back.

“Well?” Rowena asked.

Morgana smiled. “I feel…fine,” she said, relieved. Rowena handed her a secretly conjured handkerchief so she could dry her eyes.

“What happened?” Rowena asked, still hiding her wand behind her back. “Why your tears?”

“I had another nightmare,” Morgana replied with a shudder.

“Yes, I heard Gaius mention that to you.”

Morgana sighed, now glancing out the window. She rose to and walked quietly over, giving Rowena a chance to put her wand back inside her cloak. 

“There was a woman, a blonde woman, very beautiful,” Morgana said. “She was driving a sword through Arthur’s heart. She was laughing as she watched him die.”

“It was a dream.”

“No! It was so real!” Morgana insisted. “I want to tell Arthur, but he’ll only laugh it off and treat me like a silly woman. He always does that.”

“But why say anything to him at all?” Rowena asked.

“To warn him! My dreams…have a way of…coming true.” Morgana grew pale once again.

Rowena sat on the edge of Morgana’s bed and thought. “Perhaps wait to say anything. If you see the woman in real life, then tell Arthur…the Prince, that is…but until then…”

Morgana shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right.” She smiled and bent down to pick up the bottle she had batted out of Gaius’ hand, setting it carefully on the table. “Another of Gaius’ remedies.”

“Do they work?”

“Not like whatever you did.” Morgana paused. “What did you do, Rowena?”

Rowena had to think fast. She could reveal her magic to Morgana, but then again, as with Merlin, Morgana might be forced to use this information against her. On the other hand, should she be able to get Morgana to reveal her own magic…

“I just have a way with people, I suppose,” she finally replied.

Morgana laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d used magic or something.”

“Magic is illegal in Camelot.”

“True. That does not mean, however, that no one uses magic in Camelot. There’s a lot more magic than Uther realises.”

Rowena nodded. “Well, I guess he can’t catch every sorcerer.”

“Or sorceress,” Morgana added.

“Or sorceress.”

“Naturally.”

“Naturally.”

What else could be said? This conversation had become far too personal, far too dangerous. Rowena was so close to revealing what she knew she should not—she had to get away before this went any farther. But when Rowena jumped up, Morgana frowned as if she had been insulted.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Morgana asked.

“I’m afraid I must, my Lady. I must return to the kitchens.”

Thankfully, Gaius hurried into the room, a worried Gwen at his heels and a new bottle of potion in hand—and a concerned look on his face. Rather than looking happy that Morgana was so well recovered so quickly, he threw Rowena a brief, fierce glare. His features softened, however, as Morgana approached him with a bright smile.

“My Lady Morgana,” Gaius started. “I suppose you don’t need my assistance any longer.”

Morgana shrugged. “Well, maybe not this time. Rowena is absolutely amazing, Gaius. I don’t know what she did for me, but I suddenly feel wonderful!”

Only Gwen grinned widely at the news. Rowena turned to Morgana and curtsied.

“If you’ll all excuse me, I must return to my work.”

* * * * *

She watched him return, her mind newly troubled with so many questions and conflicts. As Rowena watched Merlin lead Arthur’s horse to the stables, Arthur’s armour in hand, Rowena wondered whether Merlin felt the same way as she did. She supposed so, yet she also worried about how long Merlin could keep his secret from Arthur, or especially from Uther.

Suddenly, Merlin caught sight of Rowena, grinned and waved before disappearing around the corner. Rowena felt so strange just then, so isolated. She began to realise that it didn’t matter that Merlin would likely keep her secret just as she would keep his. This was an atmosphere of competition, privilege and…was it inhumanity? She remembered once hearing Arthur telling his knights in training that no man’s life was worth ones tears. Rowena remembered how cold she felt, hearing him say such things. In so many ways, this was the man in charge of Merlin’s life, and if this was his attitude toward humanity, what chance did anyone have?

All she could do was to do her job and, for now, to keep her mouth shut.


	4. Lady Rowena and the Dark Eyed Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Arm in arm, Morgana and Rowena presented themselves at the feast, drawing stares from nearly every man in the room, single or married. Rowena noticed that she even drew the gaze of Uther, if only for a moment, before he returned to his conversation with an extremely handsome young man with luxurious, wavy black hair, haunting, dark eyes and…Rowena sighed as once again, she felt a powerful shift in the air. Was he? But perhaps not. After all, Rowena spotted Merlin in the corner, always the obedient servant. Yes, that was it. The magic in the air belonged to Merlin. It had to be._

They had become the best of friends, and in only a matter of a couple of weeks, Rowena and Morgana were nearly inseparable. Together, they gossiped and laughed and traded beauty secrets and talked about every available knight in the kingdom.

“You should marry a knight, Rowena,” Morgana said. She always said that.

Rowena rolled her eyes at that. “Right. A Knight of Camelot married to a servant? Somehow I doubt that would ever happen.”

Morgana winked at her. “Maybe you don’t have to be a servant forever,” she suggested.

“Oh, and how am I supposed to change my status? You know how this society is, all based on class.”

“But you come from far away! You could be related to anyone!”

“The King already knows I don’t have a family.”

Morgana shrugged. “Well, maybe your family history recently resurfaced.”

“How would that happen? Magic?”

Morgana laughed. “I wish! Of course, that would be foolish. After all…”

“I know. Don’t remind me.”

Morgana looked around suspiciously. “Gwen, I won’t be needing you until after supper, so why don’t you go ahead and have some time with yourself.”

Gwen, who had been sitting quietly in the corner mending a skirt hem of one of Morgana’s gowns, set down her sewing, curtsied and quickly left, once again leaving the two woman alone. The moment Gwen left, Morgana jumped up and rushed to the window, shutting it tightly, then searched every corner and niche in the room, all of which made Rowena increasingly uncomfortable.

Satisfied that they were totally alone, with no prying ears to spy on them, Morgana sat down again at Rowena’s side, giving her an eager look.

“Rowena,” she began, her soft voice a little nervous, “I can confide in you, yes?”

“Of course!” Rowena replied, fairly confident of what Morgana was about to say.

“It’s just…well, if this should get out, it might make things rather bad for me. It’s just that, I don’t think I can keep this to myself any longer, though I think Gaius suspects something.”

“What? My Lady, you know you can tell me anything.”

“I’d tell Gwen, but I don’t think she’d quite understand and…”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, my Lady.”

Morgana tugged at the lace trim of her sleeve for a moment, and bit her lip. “It’s just that…see, the other day I…well, you see I was in this very chair and…well, I wanted my perfume bottle only Gwen was fetching my lunch for me and…well, I looked at the bottle, wishing I had it in hand and…well…it flew to me!”

Rowena raised her eyebrows in alarm. “Did anyone see?”

“No, thank goodness!” Morgana replied. “But Rowena, it just happened! Just like that!”

“Is this the first time this sort of thing happened to you?” Rowena asked.

Morgana blanched. “Well…no. Rowena, I’m scared!”

“I don’t blame you!”

Morgana looked away for a moment. “And I thought you would…sort of…know what I feel.”

Rowena’s blood ran cold. “I hardly know what…”

“That thing you did to me!” Morgana continued. “When I was so hysterical and you helped me! That was magic, wasn’t it?”

“My Lady, I…” Rowena started, now terrified.

“You whispered some words,” Morgana explained. “I don’t remember what they were, but I know that I felt…power…enter my body and my mind. And then when you pressed something to my heart…”

“That was nothing.”

“It wasn’t! At first I thought it was your hand, but then I realised it was…maybe a wand or some enchanted object. Rowena, you can trust me. You know you can!”

Rowena had no words. Her mind and heart were so filled with horror and fear that she thought she might actually faint. Then again, if she could feel Morgana’s magic, why shouldn’t Morgana feel hers? Rowena suddenly hated secrets.

“My Lady, I don’t know what to say,” Rowena mumbled. She suddenly felt clammy and cold.

“Uther values you as a top executive chef…”

“And he would dispatch me as quickly as any other servant! I’ve seen him execute people for far lesser offenses.”

Morgana nodded soberly. “You have my protection, Rowena, as I’m sure I have yours.”

Rowena stifled a sob. How could it come to this, so cruelly and so fast? “Yes, my Lady, you do. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Rowena,” Morgana said, placing a comforting hand on Rowena’s own. “We need each other, now more than ever. I shall speak to Uther about giving you a promotion. I want you to be my lady-in-waiting.”

“But what about Gwen?” Rowena asked, abashed at the suggestion.

“Gwen is my maidservant, but a lady-in-waiting is much more than that. You’d be my companion, my confidante! We could share so much! And you would no longer be a servant! You’d nearly be a peer!”

What could Rowena do but nod and trust that somehow this would turn from a total disaster to…something that wasn’t a total disaster.

* * * * *

Morgana’s hearing before Uther, however, would have to wait. No sooner had Morgana made her way to the Great Hall to present herself before the King, she was stopped by the guards, who informed her that an important meeting regarding a new and unknown knight was in process.

“Which knight?” Morgana asked.

“Dunno, my Lady,” the guard replied.

“May I enter?”

“No, my Lady. Man’s business.”

Rowena laughed as Morgana recounted the incident later that morning in the kitchens. They sat by the sunlit window, watching the people mill about as usual, going whatever it was the people did during the day.

“Man’s business?” Rowena exclaimed. “I’ve never heard such nonsense!”

“And I didn’t even get a look at this supposed knight. How are we to know whether he’s handsome?”

“You’ll just have to start attending the Prince’s training sessions,” Rowena replied, still laughing.

Morgana grew serious for a moment. “I will speak to him today, Rowena. I promise. Once Arthur’s got this new knight trussed up in armour, Uther will be all mine.” She grinned. “He usually gives me what I want. I think we’ll be just fine.”

After Morgana left, Rowena started on the evening’s menu—the King was holding a great feast for some unspecified special occasion, and expected his executive chef to have planned the very finest dishes for his guests. Rowena wondered slightly if this feast had something to do with this new knight, but then again, that presupposed that this knight was accepted by Uther. 

She would miss the kitchens more than a little, Rowena pondered. Though she had fallen to the rank of servant since her arrival at Camelot, Rowena had rather enjoyed her work, even if she didn’t know how to cook without magic. And in fact, she had learned a thing or two about cooking the nonmagical way, giving Rowena a small sense of accomplishment. She would miss her daily chats with Merlin, too. Though Morgana knew her secret about magic, Merlin did not, and that’s exactly how Rowena wanted things.

Before she could finish overseeing all the preparations for the feast, a very excited Morgana dashed into the kitchens, triumphant.

“Rowena!” she squeed. “You made it! Uther agreed! He’s already promoted Hortencia to your post, so come on! Come straightaway and get ready! You’re coming to the feast!”

Rowena nearly dropped the pot of gravy she was in the process of approving for one of the cooks. Morgana grabbed her by the hand and led her straight out of the heat and noise of the kitchens, through corridors, up stairs and into the privacy of her own chambers. Throwing open the doors of her wardrobe, Morgana began rifling through, trying to find something for Rowena to wear.

“My Lady,” Rowena said. “There is no need for that.”

“Nonsense! You must look your best! This new man will be there, and word is he’s very handsome and very young!”

Rowena laughed. “Younger than I? I’m not that young any more, my Lady!”

“Oh please, Rowena! You’re perfectly young!”

As Gwen was nowhere to be seen in the room, Rowena decided to do something a bit radical. After all, since Morgana already knew she was a witch, why not? She pulled out her wand, pointed it at her own, plain dress and said, “Gunnatis!” A flash of yellow light enveloped her, and the next thing a stunned Morgana knew, Rowena stood before her in an elegant, soft teal gown, embroidered in silver, embellished with diamonds.

Morgana’s knees weakened just a little. “My goodness, Rowena! You look…beautiful!”

Rowena next conjured a tiny little beaded bag, pointed her wand at it and whispered, "Velieris.” Fastening the bag’s delicate silver chain about her waist, Rowena stowed her wand inside.

Morgana could scarely believe it. “How did you fit that long thing inside the bag?”

“Special little spell of my mother’s,” Rowena replied. “Comes in handy when you need to move across the entire island.”

Morgana grinned. “I have a feeling I can learn a lot from you, Lady Rowena.”

Rowena laughed. “Lady Rowena?”

“From now on, yes!”

* * * * *

The Great Hall of Camelot had been totally transformed so that Rowena…the Lady Rowena…could scarcely recognise it. Her staff, that is, her former staff, made the place glitter and glow with all of the most elegant furnishings and embellishments, making Rowena even more curious about the occasion. Why so much pomp and ceremony?

Arm in arm, Morgana and Rowena presented themselves at the feast, drawing stares from nearly every man in the room, single or married. Rowena noticed that she even drew the gaze of Uther, if only for a moment, before he returned to his conversation with an extremely handsome young man with luxurious, wavy black hair, haunting, dark eyes and…Rowena sighed as once again, she felt a powerful shift in the air. Was he? But perhaps not. After all, Rowena spotted Merlin in the corner, always the obedient servant. Yes, that was it. The magic in the air belonged to Merlin. It had to be.

Still, the young knight looked…familiar, though Rowena couldn’t place the face at all. She was sure that she knew no one from home who looked even remotely like this man. He was too exotically handsome, too refined and powerful in his body, too…she knew not what. Morgana laughed.

“He’s gorgeous,” she teased, whispering in Rowena’s ear.

“I’d like to Imperius him, but that would be wrong,” Rowena confessed.

“Imperius?”

“Bewitch his mind and soul.”

Morgana smirked. “Sounds like fun. Think of the long nights you could have!” They both laughed.

Finally, King Uther turned to the two women, his hand on this young man’s shoulder, almost paternally. “Lady Morgana, Lady Rowena, I would like to present Lord Salazar Pantano, Camelot’s newest knight.”

Both ladies gave this Salazar Pantano a curtsey, which he returned with a gracious bow.

“Ladies, it is an honour to be in the presence of such beauty,” Salazar replied.

“You are to be congratulated, I believe,” Morgana flirted. Neither could take their eyes from the strong, insanely attractive Salazar. “Only don’t let Arthur bully you too much, as he does with his other knights.”

“I shall do what my liege asks of me,” he replied smoothly. He pressed his lips to Morgana’s fingertips first, but when he moved to do the same to Rowena, he paused at the first touch of his hand to her own.

They both felt it, Rowena was sure. Yet this did not prevent Salazar from continuing on, and so, he lifted her hand to his lips. His kiss felt…surprisingly soft, tender, magical. Rowena sighed, in spite of her desire to maintain her reserve, and as Salazar let go of her hand, she spotted a smirking Merlin, still in his corner. She blushed.

“I don’t believe I know the name Pantano, my Lord,” Rowena said.

“My mother was from here, that is, from Albion, but my father’s family came from far away.”

“Did you always live here in Albion?” Morgana asked.

“I have lived in many places, my Lady,” Salazar replied. “Albion and elsewhere. I was never settled as a child, due to the nature of my family duties.”

“Well I hope you shall find stability here in Camelot,” Morgana replied kittenishly. “Uther seems proud to have you in his ranks.”

Salazar gave her a half-smile, showing his very white teeth. “I am privileged to make my family and my ancestors proud by my work here in Camelot. I hope to accomplish much.”

“Well so do I,” Morgana said.

Rowena’s mind raced. Salazar? It sounded so familiar. Salazar. She couldn’t remember a family called Salazar, nor a family called Pantano. As far as she could remember, in fact, there had never been anyone around her with such an exotic and foreign-sounding name. But Rowena was convinced that indeed, she had heard the name Salazar before. The problem would be figuring out when…and from where.

* * * * *

Late that night, after the feast was over and everyone had gone home to bed, Rowena found she couldn’t sleep a wink. She had enjoyed Salazar’s company, to be sure, but the fact that she still could not place him bothered her more than she was willing to admit. Unable to sleep, Rowena dressed in a simple dress and traveling cloak and decided to go for a walk. To keep safe, she also donned the little bag that still contained her wand.

Though glorious in the beautiful light of day, Rowena always loved Camelot even more at night. Often she would walk far beyond the gates of the palace, going deep into the woods that surrounded the great palace. She never feared wild animals or bandits, however, as she knew she could disapparate at the slightest suggestion of trouble…so far she hadn’t needed to resort to such drastic measures, and in truth, she hoped she wouldn’t have to.

This night, Rowena sat down on the open road so that she could take a long glance upward at the moon, which bathed Camelot with its gentle light. Tonight the moon was full—she could hear the cries of werewolves in the very far distance, but Rowena was not afraid. But then she heard footsteps. Quickly, she stood, waiting to see who or what approached. The leaves rustled and the footsteps grew nearer. Rowena reached into her bag, pulling out her wand, ready to fight anyone who might wish to harm her.

“Hello?” she called out.

No answer. More footsteps, closer now.

She could either run and risk whoever this was chasing her down, or she could disapparate and risk someone like Prince Arthur performing magic…or she could stand her ground and fight. Rowena stood, though she could feel her throat tighten as the intruder’s shadow loomed ahead.

Quick as lightening, Rowena turned around, and not recognising the shadowy figure, pointed her wand at him and shouted, “Stupefy!” A white light blew out of her wand, striking the figure square in the chest, throwing him hard on the ground.

She rushed forward, terrified that she had just killed the King or Arthur or even Merlin. But when she saw an unconscious Salazar Pantano lying flat on his back, Rowena felt relief somehow. Then again, this was a knight of Camelot she had just blown away. Then again, he was young and strong and plus, she knew she hadn’t killed him. Bur what would she say to him? She could lie and say she found him like this. She could run, too, and simply play dumb. Or she could stay and find out once and for all who this man was and why she had heard his name before.


	5. The Mysterious Lord Salazar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rowena took a skip of mead and took a deep breath. “Gaius, does the name Salazar sound familiar to you?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Do you mean Lord Salazar Pantano?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“You’ve been in Camelot a long time. Did you ever come across the name Salazar before?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Gaius raised his eyebrows at that. “You think he’s from Camelot?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“He might be, though I suspect he left as a small child.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Why would he have left?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“A lot of people left Camelot twenty years ago.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Well yes, but that was during the Great Purge.” Gaius paused, looking aghast. “Rowena, are you suggesting that Lord Salazar is a sorcerer?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“It’s nobody’s business if he is,” Rowena replied coolly. “But why would he come back, supposing that he is from Camelot.”_

He lay there so peacefully, his beautiful face serene and silent, almost innocent. Rowena stared at the still unconscious Salazar and briefly worried. Might he run to Arthur and accuse her of assault? Then again, he was a man, a knight of Camelot—Rowena knew all too well that no knight worth anything would dare to admit that he had been overpowered by a woman. In that she felt rather safe.

Then again, she figured he had to know she was a witch—she was sure they had felt the same intense magical energy in each other only that very evening at the feast as he had pressed his lips to her fingertips. It would be so easy for him to concoct some story of his going out for a night hunt and being overtaken by a sorceress. Unfortunately for Rowena, that wouldn’t have been too far from the truth. She’d have to be nice to him, she supposed. Maybe he didn’t feel it. Rowena wondered.

Maybe it would be acceptable to be nice to him. Maybe Salazar was a nice person after all. In truth, Rowena had no idea why he was roaming the forest at night—perhaps, like she, he simply wished to enjoy the night air. Was that a capital crime? Salazar groaned lightly, struggling to move his hands and fingers. His eyelids fluttered as he slowly regained consciousness. Rowena knelt down next to him and eyed him cautiously, ready at any moment to use her wand if she had to, only briefly wondering whether he had one. She decided not to ask.

“Hey,” she said softly, shaking him a little by his unarmed shoulder. “You awake?”

Salalzar winced as he sat up, shaking the dust and grass from his black waves. “What the…what happened?”

“Something must have hit you, knocked you out,” Rowena replied. She reached out to help him stand up.

“Right, something must have hit me,” Salazar said, a note of sarcasm in his resonant voice. “I wonder what?”

“No idea. What brought you out here anyways?”

Salazar chuckled. “I should ask you the same thing, my Lady. It seems odd to me that the Lady Morgana’s lady-in-waiting should be seen alone at night in the woods. Someone might think you were up to something.”

“Just a walk. You?”

“Just a walk. I’m new to these parts, and I must familiarise myself with the surrounding terrain.”

Rowena smirked. “At midnight?”

“There are many dangers around Camelot,” Salazar rejoined.

“But there are night watchmen to be on guard against such dangers.”

He nodded. “True, but I believe it’s every knight’s duty to know as much about Camelot as possible, both during the daytime and after sunset.”

They walked a bit in thoughtful silence, Rowena fighting the desire to ask the very question she was sure he wanted to ask of her. Walking by his side, she felt…strange somehow. In a way she felt incredibly safe knowing she was in the presence of a powerful wizard and a knight of Camelot, yet it was this very condition that made her more than uncomfortable. Could she trust him? It was impossible to know at this point. He was too new, too unknown to her, and though she wanted to trust that a fellow wizard would be safe, Rowena reminded herself that he had the very same power to bewitch anyone, including herself.

The following day brought no comfort to Rowena. Even Morgana noticed her distress. She quickly dismissed Gwen to run some errands for her, then insisted that Rowena sit with her and answer some pointed questions, none of which Rowena wanted to do. It would have been easy for Rowena to open her mind and heart to Morgana regarding the mysterious Salazar Pantano, but she hedged at that. After all, this was his own secret to keep, and so far, he seemed harmless—why should she expose him needlessly? There was no telling how a man like this would react were he exposed like that.

“Talk to me, Rowena,” Morgana insisted. “You are not yourself today!”

“I’m sorry, my Lady,” Rowena apologised. “Too much on my mind today.”

Morgana threw her a sly wink. “It wouldn’t be about a very handsome knight we both know, would it?”

Should she really say something? Rowena blushed, which made Morgana laugh. 

“Do you ever…feel anything…when he’s around?” Rowena asked haltingly, knowing all too well that her question would likely be misinterpreted.

Morgana laughed again. “Well, he’s a man, we’re women. Of course we feel something when he’s around!”

“Do you feel that around Arthur?”

Morgana blushed lightly. “Arthur? That prat?” But then she smirked. “Maybe a little, when he's in good humour.”

Rowena decided to take a risk. “What about…Merlin?”

“Merlin? He’s just a boy!”

“He’s old enough.”

“Rowena, you are so funny! I like Merlin very much, I mean, who doesn’t love Merlin? But let’s face facts, Rowena. Number one, he’s far too young for me and number two, he’s a servant.”

“He’s not that much younger than you,” Rowena shot back. “Maybe a year? Maybe two? That’s all.”

Morgana grinned wickedly. “Are you trying to get me in trouble? Can you imagine how Arthur would react if he thought I was carrying on with his servant! I might actually do so just to see his face!”

“Of course, Merlin would likely get cast out of Camelot,” Rowena conceded with a laugh.

Morgana nodded. “True. Arthur is far too incompetent to be without Merlin. No, I guess poor Merlin will just have to carry on without me. Hey!”

“What?”

“What about Gwen?”

“Gwen and who?”

“Gwen and Merlin!” Morgana crowed. “Oh, that would be so cute! She could tweak his big ears and he could tweak her…well, he could do something back!”

* * * * *

All such romantic thoughts had to be quickly set aside, however, when a frantic Hunith, mother of Merlin, begged for an audience with Uther. Though a mere peasant, she was granted a few minutes of the mighty king’s time, though she was quickly sent away after he refused to help her village combat a local bully, Kanan.

Arguments ensued, and without warning, Merlin disappeared with his mother, along with Gwen and Morgana, who told surprised and shocked Rowena to stay put and mind her own business. 

“Is it safe for two ladies to go up against such a brute?” a worried Rowena asked of her.

“Arthur may think himself a gentleman when it comes to protecting ladies, but he is too often blinded by his innate inability to think a woman can do anything beyond brushing her hair.” She threw open her wardrobe, rustling around until she found what she was looking for—a very sharp, very considerable dagger.

“Shall I come? My wand is far more powerful than any other weapon,” Rowena offered.

“Absolutely not! We can’t risk exposing you. I’m sorry, Rowena, but it has to be like this. I hope we’ll return in just a few days.”

All she could do was hope and pray that everything would be alright, and most of all that Merlin’s village would be free from Kanan’s wrath. For days, Rowena heard nothing—she bided her time by doing some serious thinking about Salazar, doing all she could to figure out where she had heard his name before. Finally, after a couple of fruitless days of such ruminations, Rowena decided to pay Gaius a visit, hoping his considerable knowledge might help her figure things out.

They sat together in his sunlit chambers, looking at all the people milling about, going every which way.

“Are you worried about Merlin?” Rowena asked an uncharacteristically quiet Gaius.

“I’m always worried about Merlin,” Gaius replied gravely.

“I heard Arthur went out there.”

Gaius rolled his eyes at that. “Uther is furious with him.”

“Well, Arthur is an independent spirit, isn’t he?”

“I think Uther would like to lock him up sometimes. Uther lacks Arthur's...consideration for the lower classes. It's just his way.”

Rowena took a skip of mead and took a deep breath. “Gaius, does the name Salazar sound familiar to you?”

“Do you mean Lord Salazar Pantano?”

“You’ve been in Camelot a long time. Did you ever come across the name Salazar before?”

Gaius raised his eyebrows at that. “You think he’s from Camelot?”

“He might be, though I suspect he left as a small child.”

“Why would he have left?”

“A lot of people left Camelot twenty years ago.”

“Well yes, but that was during the Great Purge.” Gaius paused, looking aghast. “Rowena, are you suggesting that Lord Salazar is a sorcerer?”

“It’s nobody’s business if he is,” Rowena replied coolly. “But why would he come back, supposing that he is from Camelot.”

“If you recall, Rowena, he told us that he had lived all over the European continent. It is likely that his family origins are Spanish, at least on his father’s side. Pantano isn’t a name one would normally hear around Albion.”

“Doesn’t that make you wonder?” Rowena persisted.

“Doesn’t that make you a bit xenophobic?”

Rowena straightened her spine proudly. “I am not xenophobic, Gaius. It doesn’t matter to me from what land a person originates, so long as he has good intentions.”

“And you believe Lord Salazar has bad intentions?”

“I’m saying I don’t know. I wish I did so I could stop all these questions.”

Gaius patted her hand paternally. “I believe that if he does have any bad intentions, those will show up eventually.”

Rowena scowled at that. “I don’t know that I agree with you, especially if he decides to use magic for ill.”

“So he is a sorcerer?”

“I didn’t say so. I said he could choose to use magic, not that he COULD use magic. Maybe he’s like you, you know, a muggle with an interest in magic.”

“Muggle? What’s that?”

Rowena laughed. “It’s just a word my mother made up. People like you and Arthur and Gwen are muggles—no magic at all.”

Gaius nodded, pouring her a little more mead. “Ah. Well, sorcerer or…muggle…let’s just hope that Lord Salazar realises that equivocation will only get him so far, if he is up to no good.”

“Sometimes one has no choice but to equivocate,” Rowena replied. “To lie by telling the truth is often the only alternative to the truth itself. Equivocation can keep one very safe. I suspect even the humble Gaius uses equivocation to keep Merlin safe.”

Gaius gave her a sly wink. “Perhaps. Once. Twice maybe.”

A slightly battered but otherwise healthy Merlin returned from his mission a few days later, bringing good news that his home village was safe and the bully Kanan was dead. 

“Saved by sorcery!” a jubilant Arthur crowed that evening at the dinner table. “Who knew?”

“What sorcery?” Uther asked, his voice like ice.

“Apparently there was this fellow in the village who could use magic. You should have seen the cyclone he created, Father!”

“I do not think that any use of sorcery is something to be admired, Arthur, especially not by the future king of Camelot.”

“If it hadn’t been for that use of sorcery, Uther,” Morgana interjected, “the village would have been lost and it is likely that both Arthur and I would not have survived!”

“That’s preposterous,” Uther spat. “I wish to hear no more of this. Shall I remind you both that what you did was unforgivable?”

“For helping a village in need?” Morgana shot back.

“For recklessly putting your lives in danger for the sake of peasants,” Uther seethed.

“Peasants?” Morgana snapped. “Who do you think populates these kingdoms? Who do you think does the bulk of the work in these kingdoms?”

“And we have a hierarchy in place in order to protect all levels of society, both peasant and king alike,” Uther lectured. “The future king of Camelot should know this already.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Uther glared at her. “Let me remind you, Morgana, that it is this so-called oppressive and unfair system that keeps you alive and very comfortable. It is this system which keeps you dressed in silks, with fine food and paid companions.”

“Father, really,” Arthur groused. “Come on, I’m trying to eat! All this politics is making me lose my appetite! And it’s not oppressive, Father. Don’t be indulgent.”

“And you will not tell me how to speak!” Uther growled.

“What say you, Rowena?” Morgana asked, unwilling to back down.

But before Rowena could even think of an answer, Uther intervened. “Do not pull the Lady Rowena into this, Morgana. She has nothing to do with your disobedience. I wager the Lady Rowena has the good judgement to know her place and not to rush out on any fool’s errand.”

“You’re quite right, your Majesty,” Rowena said. “I’d rather stay out of this.” She detected the slightest smile from Uther at that, which made her blanch. Rowena took a long drink from her goblet and kept her eyes lowered.

Since her arrival at Camelot, Rowena had spent little time in Uther’s company, though now that she was Morgana’s lady-in-waiting, these encounters had become more frequent. Normally, Rowena would let Morgana do the bulk of the talking, which as it happened was rather easy, considering how much Morgana usually had to say. More often than not these conversations turned into bickering and even a few shouting matches, normally with Uther storming off or confining a frustrated and angry Morgana to her rooms.

On those occasions, Rowena thus found herself alone with Arthur, saying as little as possible, neither wanting to prolong the typical family drama. Often, Arthur would use levity to break the tension, either by making fun of Merlin or Morgana or even his own father. Rowena had to learn when it was proper to laugh at his jokes and when it was safer merely to smile lightly. She was sure that Arthur was completely at ease with her, which gave Rowena relief. Happily, she found she could be herself around Arthur, even more so than when she was with Morgana or Merlin.

Rowena wished she could be herself around Merlin. There was so much she wanted to say to him, so many questions to ask of the young wizard. But for now, she would have to be satisfied with Arthur's talk of swordplay and knights training and Merlin's slipshod performance as a servant and how different the kitchens were now that Rowena no longer worked there.

"Arthur," Rowena said one solitary evening, "that is, sire..."

"You don't have to call me sire, Rowena."

"Thank you, sire...Arthur. I was just curious about something...about...Lord Salazar Pantano."

Arthur rolled his eyes and scowled. "Oh yes, the perfect Lord Salazar."

"Is there a problem with him?"

Arthur tossed his napkin on the table dismissively and refilled both their goblets. "No, no, he's fine. Bloody perfect, really. I'm serious, Rowena."

Rowena smirked. "Perfect with the ladies?"

"I don't get it! Morgana is completely smitten by him! Hasn't she mentioned him to you every second of the day?"

"She mentions lots of men, not just Lord Salazar. But I thought you two weren't interested in each other, at least not like that."

Arthur munched on a carrot and pondered. "My father wants me to be interested, I think."

"But you were raised together, right? Aren't you more like brother and sister?"

"He doesn't care. After all, we're not brother and sister, are we?"

Rowena ate a strawberry. "So what does this have to do with Lord Salazar?"

"I don't know. I get a funny feeling about him is all. Don't know why."

"Have you said anything to your father about this?"

"Of course not! You know how my father is. He views the slightest disagreement as treason or cowardice! If I were to express concerns to him about Salazar, he'd probably lock me up or send me out on some dangerous mission! Or worse, he’d have me muck out the stables, just to put me in my place."

Rowena ate another strawberry. "Well then, Arthur, you and I will just have to be more vigilant about him, find out more about him."

Arthur took a long drink from his goblet and mussed his hair. "I don't know, Rowena, I mean, I need to be able to trust my men. I don't want to put myself in a situation where I feel like I have to check up on them. It creates bad morale and it compromises my ability to lead them."

Rowena frowned. "But you just expressed concern about him."

"I know. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Maybe it's just me."

"Right, Arthur. Maybe it is."

Or maybe not.


	6. The Power of Salazar Pantano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Salazar had this incredible influence over so many in Camelot. He had completely entranced Morgana in a very brief amount of time so that all too quickly, she had eyes for no one else in the kingdom. Morgana spent far less time now with Rowena and Gwen and far more time in dark corners in the manly arms of the beautiful Salazar Pantano. The only times she wasn't in his constant presence was when he was in training or on maneuvers or in council with the king. And of course, she was in her own bed at night, alone with her dreams of Salazar’s magical touch. What was this strange power of Salazar Pantano, and was it for the greater good?_

He was perfect, in every way. Handsome, rugged, strong, articulate, educated, a wicked fighter, deadly with a mace. There was nothing in Salazar Pantano with which either Rowena or Arthur could find the slightest fault, as vigilant as they were.

Of course, there was the issue of his being a wizard, though Rowena didn't see that as a fault, either. Naturally, she said nothing to Arthur about that--that would be unfair. Still, should it come right down to it, Rowena realised that she might actually have to use that bit of information. She didn't want to, and in truth, it put her and Merlin in danger, so if she was forced to expose Salazar, Rowena concluded that it would have to be for a very good reason.

Salazar had this incredible influence over so many in Camelot. He had completely entranced Morgana in a very brief amount of time so that all too quickly, she had eyes for no one else in the kingdom. Morgana spent far less time now with Rowena and Gwen and far more time in dark corners in the manly arms of the beautiful Salazar Pantano. The only times she wasn't in his constant presence was when he was in training or on maneuvers or in council with the king. And of course, she was in her own bed at night, alone with her dreams of Salazar’s magical touch.

For a time, Rowena saw this as completely natural. After all, they were young, full of life and lust, and were merely indulging the first delights of a new relationship. Rowena recalled her own past relationships with young men before she came to Camelot, seeing much of herself in Morgana's intensity with Salazar. It all seemed fine, normal...lovely. Morgana glowed more, argued far less with Uther or Arthur, gave Gwen much more time to herself. Everyone seemed to benefit from this match.

But Rowena was a bit more concerned about Uther's new and nearly consuming interest in the very young Salazar's political advice. In truth, Rowena had no idea what Salazar was advising Uther to do—women were not permitted to participate in such meetings—yet after only a month or so, Uther seemed to put as much trust in Salazar as he would in his own son, or even more so. That bothered Rowena, considering that Salazar had tremendous magical gifts. All her doubts started bubbling up the more time she saw Uther spending hours in meetings Salazar and far less time with Arthur.

What was this strange power of Salazar Pantano, and was it for the greater good? At this point, all Rowena could do was to keep her eyes open and her mouth shut.

* * * * *

"I think he might be the one," a flushed Morgana confessed one morning to Rowena. They sat together by her window, looking out as the line of red-cloaked knights marched in unison off to train.

"Who?" Rowena asked, feigning ignorance. Better to look a fool than to be a fool, she reasoned.

"Salazar!" Morgana sighed and leaned her head against the window, smiling serenely. "His hands are so strong, but his kiss is so tender. Rowena, I've never felt like this before about any man!"

"How long have we known him?" Rowena asked.

"Who cares?" Morgana replied. "I've waited all my life for someone like him, and there's no way I'm letting him go!"

"Well the king seems to like him," Rowena commented, wondering whether that might prejudice Morgana against him.

But Morgana only giggled. "Yes, it's the first time Uther and I ever agreed on anything! Maybe Uther isn't as much of a ponce as I thought he was."

"Oh come now, Morgana, surely you never thought the king was a ponce!"

"Oh alright. Uther is not a ponce. But Arthur is!"

They laughed.

"What's going on with Arthur these days anyway?" Rowena asked. "He's been acting very strangely."

"Arthur can't help but act strangely," Morgana joked. "He's a strange boy."

"Boy? You mean man, don't you?"

"Whatever."

"Though it's true, he's been acting like a boy these days," Rowena conceded. "Why only yesterday, he stood up so straight and proud I thought he might topple over backwards!"

"He can never outshine my Salazar," Morgana replied quixotically. "No one can. Not even Uther."

Was that it, Rowena wondered? Had Arthur become so insecure around Salazar that he had started to overcompensate? It could be, she supposed. That afternoon after a light luncheon, Rowena decided to see for herself what might be going on. Excusing herself from Morgana's rooms, Rowena made her way down the marble steps, down the stone corridors and out into the fresh Camelot air, heading straight to the knights' training arena. Of course, she would have to approach this very casually, giving Salazar no reason to suspect that she might be checking up on him.

Upon her approach, the knights suddenly stopped their swordplay, turning as one to give Rowena a polite bow. Rowena noticed that Salazar bowed lower than the rest, and that Arthur didn't bow at all. Then again, he didn't have to. But then, when he spotted Salazar making such a grand gesture, Arthur put his hand to his heart, made intense eye contact with Rowena and gave her a gentlemanly bow.

"Lady Rowena," Arthur said graciously. "What brings you here this afternoon?"

"I love to watch boys fighting," Rowena replied with a giggle. "I like to see a man handle a sword."

Arthur grinned, but Salazar replied. "I would think such bloodletting would be distressing to such a fine lady as yourself."

Rowena shrugged. "It is as much a part of life as anything else, Lord Salazar. To fear blood is to fear life itself."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but once again, Salazar trumped him. "Any woman is well versed in the complexities of life."

Rowena smirked. "Which is why we have no need to play about with swords." The knights laughed at her reply, but Arthur only glared at Salazar. Seeing his expression, Rowena decided it was best to take her leave, not wanting Arthur to be shown up even further.

Arthur's irritation and humiliation hadn't gone away by dinnertime that evening, yet he said little through most of the meal. As both Uther and Morgana sang the praises of Lord Salazar, Arthur grew noticeably distressed—Rowena knew it was only a matter of time before Arthur blurted out something brash and rude. She glanced over at Merlin, who looked equally concerned. Yet neither could do a thing about it, and when Arthur finally did speak, Rowena worried all the more.

"...and I believe he is absolutely correct about the southern kingdoms," Uther went on. "They see our prosperity and wish to take from us what is ours."

"Sounds like paranoia to me, Father," Arthur grumbled. He picked at his lamb stew but ate nothing.

"Why don't you admit it, Arthur," Morgana teased. "Lord Salazar knows more than the almighty Arthur Pendragon."

"He doesn't!" Arthur protested. "It sounds to me like he's fomenting animosity where there is none!"

"Then you clearly lack his insight," Uther replied sharply.

"That's ridiculous, Father."

"Don't you dare call me ridiculous!" Uther snapped.

Arthur sighed heavily. "I'm not, Father. What proof does he have that the southern kingdoms wish to militate against Camelot?"

"Widespread poverty, inadequate leadership, poor weather conditions. Am I boring you?"

Arthur rolled his eyes dejectedly. "Well maybe if the wise Lord Salazar knows so much, he should sit here at family table?"

Uther narrowed his eyes at Arthur. "Maybe he should."

The next thing anyone knew, Uther did exactly that the following night. By the end of the week, Salazar was seated at Uther's right hand, with Arthur sitting on the far left side, next to Rowena. Throughout the meal, Uther and Salazar and Morgana talked about politics, strategy, even about reforming the Knight's Code—that enraged Arthur to the point where he stormed out of the room, not even excusing himself.

"I'm sorry you had to witness Arthur's immaturity," Uther said apologetically to Salazar.

“Arthur is like you, Majesty,” Salazar replied smoothly. “He is a man of great passions.”

“He’s no match for your passion,” Morgana gushed, stroking his arm.

Under normal circumstances, Uther would have laid into her and forbade her to speak in such a risqué manner in front of a man, but to Rowena’s surprise, Uther only chuckled at her comment.

“But Arthur is a very good leader,” Salazar reasoned. “He trains his knights very well. Many of his ideas and strategies are perfectly adequate.”

“Adequate?” Uther exclaimed. “Merely adequate?”

Salazar shrugged. “He is very good with, shall we say, choreography, but I have seen greater ferocity in other lands.”

“Choreography?” Rowena asked, mystified and more than a bit taken aback. She knew all too well that Arthur was a remarkable warrior, and was responsible for training equally excellent knights.

“You know, footwork,” Salazar replied.

“Isn’t that important for battle, to know how to move properly so you don’t get run through?” Rowena asked.

Both Salazar and Uther laughed. “My dear, you make it all sound so simple!” Salazar said.

"My dear?" Rowena thought, dumbfounded. "Is he kidding?" When neither Uther nor Morgana said a word to contradict Salazar, Rowena worried.

“I don’t appreciate being patronised, Lord Salazar,” Rowena shot back.

“And you, young lady, will NOT speak to a knight of Camelot with such disrespect,” Uther hissed.

“Really, Rowena,” Morgana said. “You need to learn your place.”

As someone only slightly higher than a servant, Rowena knew she had few options, so she let the matter drop. Running out in protest might have made things worse for her, and fighting back would likely make things even worse than that. Rowena thus lowered her eyes submissively and finished her bread.

* * * * *

By the following week, however, things grew far more grim, characterized by the unthinkable sight of Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot and Heir Apparent, mucking out the stables. He looked tired and gaunt, his face pale and stressed. Rowena stopped, secretly conjuring a flagon of cold water.

“Sire,” she said cheerfully, approaching the exhausted Arthur tentatively.

Arthur turned to face her, letting the pitchfork fall to the floor with a clatter. He tried to force a smile, but it was no good. He was too tired.

“I see you’re hard at work here,” Rowena went on. She stepped forward, offering him the flagon. “Go on. It’s just water.”

Arthur scowled. “Too bad. I wish it were wine.” He took a long drink without thanking her, then thrust the empty flagon back at her.

“So what’s this all about?” Rowena asked, indicating the large, mucky mess at their feet.

He scowled again. “I don’t know. Ask my father.”

“Your father is making you muck out the stables?”

Arthur rolled his eyes derisively. “And guess who’s training my knights?”

“Oh dear,” Rowena muttered.

“Yep. You got it. Oh, and get this. My father has given a suite of rooms to Mr. Bloody Perfect, right next door to Morgana!”

“They’re not…”

“I don’t know,” Arthur replied dolefully. He sighed and picked up the pitchfork again.

“Why is your father doing this to you?”

“I wish I knew. I’m tempted to say that this Salazar is some sort of sorcerer or something, but Father wouldn’t believe me.”

Rowena frowned. “Do you think he is? A sorcerer, I mean?”

He sighed again. “I guess not.”

“What does Gaius think?”

“Gaius? What’s it to him? He doesn’t do that sorcery business any more, Rowena.”

“I know. But he knows about that sort of thing. I don’t know, I guess, it just might be wise to get his insight.”

“I’ll leave the insight to you for now,” Arthur replied, turning back to his chore. “I’ve got work to finish.”

Rowena, however, decided not to go to Gaius about this, at least not for the present, thinking it safer to keep an eye on Salazar for now. She suspected that Uther had been Imperiused, but then again, perhaps he was simply seduced by the force of Salazar’s overwhelming personality and charm. So far, there was no evidence of dark magic being used, nor any magic at all. Uther may have been devoted to his son, but he was also temperamental and extremely mercurial—in his worst moments, Rowena didn’t know which Uther to expect. Seeing him make Arthur clean the stables, thus, shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did. Uther had done far worse to Arthur in the past, even locking him in prison for a week after one of their fierce battles.

Then there was the issue with Morgana. These days, Rowena rarely saw Morgana, and by now, her bed was frequently empty at night—Gwen was nearly beside herself with worry about her mistress.

“It’s like she’s a completely different person now,” she told Rowena one morning after Morgana didn’t come home to her rooms.

“I can’t believe Uther condones this,” Rowena replied. “You’d think he’d at least make them marry!”

“Would you want them to marry?”

“You wouldn’t?”

Gwen hesitated. “No, I wouldn’t. He’s terrible to Merlin, too.”

Rowena shook her head. “I’m surprised Merlin hasn’t told Salazar off yet.”

“He knows better than to take on Salazar. Arthur’s been hard on him, too, like he’s taking out his frustrations out on his servant.”

“Arthur thinks Salazar might be a sorcerer.”

“So does Gaius,” Gwen replied.

That was a bit of a shock. “Does he? Based on what?”

Gwen shrugged. “I mean look at it! How can such a young man come out of nowhere, and in only a couple of months have the ear of the king and the bed of the king’s ward? How can the king just throw his own son aside like that? It makes no rational sense!”

Rowena frowned. “Look, Gwen, you can’t make such an accusation against Salazar. He’s too close to the king right now! And besides, it is possible that no magic is being used at all!”

Gwen scowled. “Do you really believe that?”

“No,” Rowena confessed.

“What do we do?”

“Be very careful, both in word and in deed. If this is magic, then there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But that’s not good enough!” Gwen protested. “I know that I couldn’t do anything about it, but surely someone could!”

“Uther has exterminated all possibilities, hasn’t he? His own legislation makes a solution improbable.”

“But not impossible,” Gwen corrected her. “I wish I knew a sorcerer at this point. Think what he could do to help this situation! I…fear for Arthur.”

“Do you believe him to be in danger?” Rowena asked.

“I do.”

“And you’re sure you’re not just being overprotective of him?”

“If the king is making the Crown Prince muck out the stables for disagreeing with a brand new knight from lord knows where, then what else will happen?”

Rowena found she had no answer.


	7. Parseltongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She heard it again, a low hissing sound, as if a group of serpents were communicating with each other. Rowena had never heard such a sound before—she’d been around snakes in the past, though she usually tried to avoid them. She had never heard what seemed to be so man of them together, in some sort of conversation. The hissing continued and grew louder. Her skin prickled as a chill ran down her spine. A rustle of leaves made her gasp aloud, but Rowena decided not to disapparate._

The night was too beautiful to resist, its softness too compelling to ignore. Rowena could feel the night’s energy fill her body and soul as she rushed to meet its embrace, free from the confining stone of Camelot. She walked quickly, letting the clatter of her shoes mix with the music of the crickets and the creaking tree branches along the way.

Rowena waved to the guards at the gates, all of whom merely waved back, apparently unperturbed by the thought of a woman alone in the dark of night. On she went, taking the air in through her nose, letting it out slowly, feeling her fingertips crackle with magical energy. Rowena half wondered whether she’d run into Merlin doing the exact same thing—for Rowena, the end of the day always brought great stress and anxiety as her unused magic built up inside her like a chained up tiger, desperate to be free. She hurried to the riverside, hoping to take in the energy of the water and find some relief.

No Merlin, though.

But no matter. She supposed he had his own way of dealing with all that built up chaos bursting inside him. She just wished she could find a better way of dealing with the situation—despite the fact that she could apparate out of any danger, Rowena knew that this always brought great risk. If a guard or even Arthur saw her perform the slightest bit of magic, there would be no return to Camelot or to her friends or to this life she had built for herself these last several years. As difficult as it sometimes was living under Uther’s laws against magic, Rowena had still found happiness and peace.

For a long time, Rowena sat on a smooth rock by the babbling waters, eyes placidly shut, letting the sweet sounds take her over. Sometimes she remembered her father whenever she sat by the riverside, but more often these days, she simply felt the power of the elements make the air thick with magic. Palms up, head thrown back, Rowena let the magic penetrate every part of her, flooding her to such a degree that she thought she might actually fly upward over the treetops.

But wait…

What was that hissing noise? She sat bolt upright, all senses attuned to the new shift in the energy of the air. A sorcerer approached, that much Rowena was certain. Was it Merlin, doing who knew what in the middle of the night? Was it Morgana, romping about with Salazar? The magic was potent, to be sure, but from what she could feel, came only from one person. It wasn’t strong enough to be the witch Nimueh, but it was much stronger than the muggle magic Gaius possessed.

She heard it again, a low hissing sound, as if a group of serpents were communicating with each other. Rowena had never heard such a sound before—she’d been around snakes in the past, though she usually tried to avoid them. She had never heard what seemed to be so man of them together, in some sort of conversation. The hissing continued and grew louder. Her skin prickled as a chill ran down her spine.

A rustle of leaves made her gasp aloud, but Rowena decided not to disapparate. She half hoped that Arthur would appear suddenly on his horse, as he had done so many years ago, eager to rescue a damsel in distress. Instead, though, Rowena heard footsteps and more rustling, but she also heard what sounded like a sword being drawn from its sheath. She reached into her beaded bag and pulled out her wand, ready to strike anyone or anything that dared attack her. The hissing stopped, replaced by a deathly silence. Suddenly…

“Show yourself!” a man’s voice barked.

Rowena gripped her wand tightly and took a very tentative step forward as the man drew closer. Her heart raced as her breathing became shallow and quick.

“I’m armed,” the man said. “I will kill you where you stand if you do not show yourself now!”

Whose voice was that? Rowena wondered. It wasn’t Arthur and it wasn’t Uther. It sounded a little familiar, but…

“I’m armed as well,” she replied loudly, doing her best to sound dangerous.

More rustling, quicker now, and before Rowena could turn, the knight emerged from the shadows, sword in hand. “Lady Rowena?”

Rowena wasn’t sure whether the sight of Salazar just then was good or bad. She couldn’t decide if he looked angry or concerned, but one thing she couldn’t get away from was the fact that he had just seen her wand. Salazar sheathed his sword and smirked.

“You’d better put that thing away before you turn me into a newt.”

“I thought perhaps you were a marauder or a dark wizard,” Rowena replied, struggling to regain her composure.

“Sorry if I startled you, Lady Rowena,” Salazar said casually. “This isn’t the first time we’ve encountered each other out here.”

“True. I heard all that hissing and became concerned.”

“Oh that. Yes.”

“You heard it, too?”

Salazar chuckled. “I’ll tell you a little secret. I’m a snake charmer.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“No, my Lady, I’m quite serious. Runs in the family. My last name even refers to serpents.”

Rowena put her wand back in her bag and wrapped her cloak a bit tighter around her shoulders. “I never heard of that before. How is it you have power over snakes?”

Salazar shrugged. “I just do. A Parselmouth is born that way. Nothing you can do about it. It comes in rather nicely when I’m outdoors like this and I run across a big rattler or something. I simply tell it to go away, and it does.”

“Handy.”

“Not as handy as that wand of yours, I’m sure.”

“Do you use one?”

“To be a snake charmer?”

“To do magic.”

Salazar gave her a sly look. “What makes you think I can do magic?”

Rowena laughed. “Oh come on! You can’t lie to me about magic! The first moment I saw you I knew you were a wizard! You can’t hide that, Salazar. Surely you know that!”

“I know no such thing! I never knew you were a witch until just now!”

“What? You felt it right away, the first time we met!”

“I felt only what a man feels when he sees a beautiful woman.”

Rowena stood there, astonished by his pronouncement. She was so sure he must have felt her magic as keenly as she felt his—how could he not? For that matter, how could a powerful wizard like Merlin not feel it? It made no sense to Rowena.

Salazar stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Rowena, your secret is safe with me. Uther will never know what you are, that is, if you don’t tell him that I’m a snake charmer.”

“Nor that you’re a wizard,” Rowena added. She opened her mouth to say something about Merlin, but stopped herself, not sure how much she could really believe Salazar. It mattered less if she were exposed, as she could apparate, but if he exposed Merlin, that could prove disastrous, as Merlin didn’t have that ability, as far as Rowena knew.

What she did know was that this ability to talk to snakes was entirely fascinating to her—how common was this ability? The next day, in fact, she decided to make a visit to Gaius, just to see if he had any information on this Parselmouth in any of his books on magic. Gaius looked troubled by her request, which made Rowena worry, considering the influence Salazar already had over both Uther and Morgana.

“Why should you wish to know about Parselmouths?” he asked.

“I recently encountered someone with that ability, and I wanted to know more about it,” Rowena replied.

“Please tell me it’s not Merlin.”

“It’s not Merlin. It’s not Morgana, either.”

“Good.” Gaius creaked up a rickety ladder and pulled out a huge, dusty tome which Rowena floated down to the table.

“You can’t descend a ladder holding a book like that,” she said to a very cross Gaius. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible should you fall to your death!”

Gaius moved to open the book and find the correct page, but Rowena stopped him. Shutting her eyes, she held her hand over the book and whispered “Parselmouth!” The book flew open, fluttering its pages in a cloud of dust until it finally fell open to a page bearing an elaborate drawing of a robed wizard standing over a trio of green serpents.

“Unbelievable,” Gaius muttered. He took a moment to read over the page, frowning deeply as he read.

“What?”

“Parseltongue, or the language of snakes, is an extremely dark magical ability,” Gaius replied. “The Parselmouth can use his powers to attack innocent people, to cause plagues and even to bring about famines.”

“Goodness! Do you remember anyone in Camelot who had this ability?”

“In Camelot? Goodness, I’d have to think on that.” Gaius paused, pondering deeply. “I do recall…now this was years and years ago…a rather large family called Slytherin who could apparently talk to serpents. They had an extremely dark reputation, if I remember correctly. But the Slytherins are long gone, Rowena.”

“Uther?”

“Yes. Like so many others.”

“Could they have gotten away?”

“Uther’s men hunted any and all sorcerers far into the outlying territories, and even into other kingdoms, convincing the neighbouring kings to allow him to round up these people and have them executed. Many of these kings not only gave permission but actually helped Uther. I doubt the Slytherin family would have gotten far.”

“We got away. If the notorious alchemist, Lorcan Ravenclaw, could get away, why not the snake charming Slytherins?”

Gaius nodded. “If the rumours are true, Lorcan’s ability to vanish into thin air would have saved him…and you.”

He had a point, Rowena had to concede. “True. I guess I thought all wizards could do that, but clearly I’m wrong. Can Merlin do that?”

“Not that I know of. I have seen it done, however. The witch, Mary Collins, had that ability, as does Nimueh and others. And you, I presume.”

“Yes. And me. It has its risks, naturally, but it comes in handy sometimes.” She sat back in her chair and thought. “Surely the Slytherins aren’t the only family with this ability, that is, to speak Parseltongue.”

“Probably not.”

“Do you suppose they have relatives in other parts of Albion, or even beyond Albion, that have the same ability?”

“It’s possible. I don’t know when the Slytherins came to Camelot, so it’s possible that they have relatives elsewhere.”

“Spain?”

“Spain?”

“Yes. Spain.”

“Are you suggesting the Slytherins weren’t Britons?”

“Maybe. Is that bad?”

“No, of course not,” Gaius replied. “But why are you so interested in a long-dead family?”

Not ready to press the issue further, Rowena relented. “Just curious is all. Thank you, Gaius. I think I’ve learned much today.”

* * * * *

That night at dinner, only Salazar and Morgana presented themselves at Uther’s table. Once again, Salazar sat at Uther’s right hand, with Morgana at his left, leaving Rowena to set next to Morgana. Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

“Is his highness ill tonight?” Rowena asked. She hoped Arthur wasn’t forced to sleep in the stables.

“He is where he belongs,” Uther replied grandly. 

Morgana giggled. “He might be adequate with a sword, but he’s a failure with a pitchfork.”

“I believe a man shouldn’t leave a job until it is done properly,” Uther added.

“You mean, the stables?” Rowena asked.

“Pass the apples, won’t you?” Morgana said, helping herself to roasted pork and potatoes.

“How’s training going?” Rowena asked Salazar.

“Excellent. The men are in far better shape, now they’re properly trained.”

“Lord Salazar is brilliant,” Uther pointed out. “He has brought our knights the most advanced, most aggressive battle techniques I’ve ever seen. They will be more than able to conquer the southern kingdoms when the time is right.” He raised an eyebrow and gave Rowena a very quick but very intense look of longing. She nearly bobbled her goblet of wine, catching herself just in time.

“You are too kind, majesty,” Salazar replied. “I simply believe in sharing ones useful talents. What’s the use of having a gift if it goes unused?”

“Precisely,” Uther replied. “My feeling, Lord Salazar, is that you just may have what it takes to be a ruler of men.”

Rowena looked to Morgana for some sort of reply, but her heart sank when Morgana merely gazed longingly at Salazar and laughed. Rowena pushed her plate back and moved to stand up.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Uther asked.

“Forgive me, majesty,” Rowena said. “I’m feeling a bit ill just now. Perhaps I’ll go to see Gaius for a remedy.”

“Nonsense,” Uther said. “I’ll send for him to go to your house. And perhaps I shall check on you later on.”

“I’m sure you have greater things to do, majesty, then to check up on a lady-in-waiting.”

“There is little more important than seeing to the needs of a beautiful woman,” Uther declared.

What could she say to keep him away? A perplexed and anxious Rowena could only curtsey politely and excuse herself to return home. A panic coursed through her, however, the moment she set foot inside her house as she suddenly realised how many magical objects she possessed, out in the open. In Camelot, Rowena didn’t entertain any visitors, preferring to go elsewhere to be with friends and acquaintances—since she became lady-in-waiting to Morgana, Rowena always had the excuse of spending an inordinate amount of time at the palace, so that her own home was safe from curious and unwelcome eyes.

Naturally, Rowena didn’t worry about Gaius seeing her magical objects and books. But she knew all too well that the moment Uther stepped inside, he would know immediately that she was a witch. How could he not know? She had any number of large volumes of magic, alchemy, curses, hexes and jinxes, plus a collection of cauldrons which she used to create potions, plus her father’s alchemical instruments, her mother’s wand, a foe glass, among other things. She quickly grabbed her charmed traveling bag, took out her wand and quickly stuffed the bag with every magical object she possessed, including those hidden away.

The moment she snapped the bag tightly shut, a knock came at the door. Flushed and slightly disheveled, Rowena reluctantly opened the door, relieved to find Gaius on the other side. He hurried inside and led her to the long table near the kitchen.

“The king says you are unwell,” Gaius said, fumbling through his medical bag for a restorative.

“You do know he will be visiting here before long,” Rowena replied gravely.

“Here? King Uther, visiting you?”

“That’s what he promised. Don’t worry, though. I’ve hidden anything dangerous.”

“Good. You look pale, Rowena. Perhaps you do need a restorative.”

“That won’t help, Gaius, but thanks all the same.” She sighed. “I’m really afraid…for Arthur.”

“Arthur can take care of himself, Rowena. He’s a very strong young man.”

“I know. But he’s close to losing everything that’s his. He…”

But they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Without waiting to be admitted, Uther opened the door and entered Rowena’s house, a look of concern on his face. Both Gaius and Rowena stood and bowed, but Uther motioned for them both to sit.

“How is the patient, Gaius?”

“I believe she will live, majesty.”

“Good. Then you will leave us.”

Rowena gulped. She grew a shade paler, but gave Gaius a quick nod to leave. She was now entirely alone with Uther Pendragon, fearing what might happen in the next minute.


	8. The King's Command

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There was something…alluring about the king. Maybe the fact that he was an extraordinarily powerful king was what drew her unexpectedly to him. On the other hand, though he was at least fifteen or twenty years her senior, Uther held his own attractiveness. Battle scarred though he was, there was a gentility in his bearing, even a certain wisdom in his pale blue eyes that made Rowena take a second look at him. Yet he was responsible for so much suffering among her own kind—wizards, witches, dragonlords, Parselmouths, young men like Merlin, all gone in flames and bloodshed. Rowena vaguely thought it would be so easy just then to use the Killing Curse on Uther—it was such a perfect setup, and should she be accused of regicide, she could simply disapparate anywhere she wanted, just like that._

She suddenly became aware of every part of her own body, her posture, her figure, the cascade of dark waves that fell around her shoulders. She knew he wanted nothing more than to run his rough hands through her soft hair, and she wondered how that would feel. She wondered whether accepting his caress would be a betrayal of wizardkind, or if she was free to enjoy his attentions.

But did Rowena want Uther’s attentions?

Her instinct told her no, but on the other hand, there was something…alluring about the king. Maybe the fact that he was an extraordinarily powerful king was what drew her unexpectedly to him. On the other hand, though he was at least fifteen or twenty years her senior, Uther held his own attractiveness. Battle scarred though he was, there was a gentility in his bearing, even a certain wisdom in his pale eyes that made Rowena take a second look at him. Yet he was responsible for so much suffering among her own kind—wizards, witches, dragonlords, Parselmouths, young men like Merlin, all gone in flames and bloodshed. Rowena vaguely thought it would be so easy just then to use the Killing Curse on Uther—it was such a perfect setup, and should she be accused of regicide, she could simply disapparate anywhere she wanted, just like that.

But no. That would be wrong, unforgivable. Though she couldn’t understand Uther’s violent hatred of magic, Rowena somehow had to accept that there was some greater purpose behind it. At least, that was her hope. This was a man, after all, who deeply loved his son, despite his current behaviour, and who had passionately loved his wife. A man capable of such love had to have some sense of goodness in him. She hoped.

“You look so pale,” Uther noted. He reached forward to push a lock of hair out of her eyes.

She moved her hand up unconsciously, grazing the edge of his fingers with her own. Rowena drew in her breath sharply, and when he took her hand in his, her mind went completely blank.

“You’re trembling,” he said quietly.

“Am I?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Rowena forced a smile, her mind racing. “Well, sire, it’s all your fault.”

“My fault?” Uther replied, laughing.

“You have a very powerful effect on me, sire.”

“Uther. Please.”

_Oh dear,_ she thought. “Very well, then…Uther.” She could barely breathe.

“Lady Rowena, you need to get some rest. I should like for you to take a turn with me tomorrow morning, after breakfast. The rose garden is all in bloom this time of year.”

“Certainly…Uther. That would be lovely.”

“And perhaps wear that light blue gown you wore two weeks ago. I like the way it sets off your beautiful dark hair.”

Rowena gulped again. “Of course.”

Uther stood, giving her a slight bow. “Then good-night, Lady Rowena. Sleep well.”

But Rowena found she couldn’t sleep a wink that night. Overwhelmed with anxiety and a barrage of new questions, all she could do was toss and turn all night long. What was going on with him? She knew he considered her attractive—she had caught him stealing a glance at her from time to time in the past—but she had no idea he felt so strongly about her. Rowena had always thought that Uther hadn’t quite gotten over his wife’s death twenty-one years ago. Could it be that he was finally ready to move on with his life, or could it be…

Whatever the reason, Rowena couldn’t not show up for this date with Uther. Plus, if she failed to present herself to him as he requested, he would likely seek her out at home—that could never happen again, Rowena assured herself. No, she would have to meet him, walk with him through the gardens and hope that he would become distracted by thoughts of Salazar and all his grand plans for Camelot.

Unfortunately, Salazar had taken a team of knights on a hunting expedition, without Arthur, and wouldn’t return for at least a week. Furthermore, Salazar had taken Merlin with them to act as servant, despite Arthur’s protests. Rowena was entirely on her own in this new situation. Thus, she put on her best smile and strove to present herself as vapidly as possible—maybe he would grow bored with her that way, though Rowena doubted that. Normally, Uther was intolerant of anyone with the slightest free opinion, and she couldn’t imagine he’d hold her to a different standard. So, she met him.

He looked…good, actually. Rowena couldn’t help but notice that Uther had combed his hair nicely and even wore some sort of cologne, probably taken from Arthur. He wore a very smart suit and had polished his shoes to perfection—that is, his servant had polished the shoes. Upon her approach at the foot of the palace steps, Uther stopped and again, gave her a slight bow—he never bowed to anyone, as far as Rowena knew. This was getting strange. She curtsied back and allowed him to kiss her hand. A treacherous little sigh escaped from her as his lips touched her hand. Uther gave her hand a little squeeze, then offered her his arm.

Rowena couldn’t help but be impressed by his physical strength. Despite his age, Uther was still extremely powerful in body, no doubt the product of years of military training and battle. She could feel a confident energy in the muscle of his arm and the force of his stride as they ambled down paths and into the expansive palace gardens. Uther was right—the roses were beyond belief, with reds and corals and whites and pinks bursting everywhere.

Uther grinned. “You’re speechless.”

Rowena nodded. “You have extremely talented gardeners, Uther.”

“Lord Salazar recommended a different type of food for them, and the moment I instructed the palace gardeners to use it, it was as though the roses bloomed overnight.”

“Then we are to be grateful once again to Lord Salazar.”

“Indeed. But I have not brought you to this breathtaking spot to discuss my knights, Rowena.”

Rowena gave him a sly wink. “Then what would you like to discuss, Uther?”

Before she could stop him, he leaned forward and kissed her lips, at first softly, tentatively, but soon with deep passion and ardour.

“I’ve wanted to do that for five years,” Uther whispered, pulling away from her.

“Really?” That couldn’t be right, could it?

He kissed her again, and to Rowena’s astonishment, she let him. She also let his hands wander down to her slim waist, and when they stopped there and went no farther, she couldn’t help but be further impressed. Uther may have been a tyrant, but at least he was a gentleman.

“When Morgana came to me and asked for you to become her lady-in-waiting,” Uther explained, showering her shoulders with butterfly kisses, “I was thrilled. My only regret is that I didn’t do this the moment you arrived in Camelot.”

“How could you?” Rowena asked. “I was a complete stranger to you.”

“You’re the first woman I’ve ever thought about since Igraine.”

Could this be possible? Could it truly be that Uther Pendragon was expressing real sentiment towards her? As much as Rowena wanted to think that he had somehow been Imperiused by Salazar, Uther seemed to be sincere, even heartfelt in his expressions. When he kissed her again, Rowena let herself succumb to his caresses, and before she knew it, she was returning them with her own.

* * * * *

Arthur, finally having cleaned out the stables to his father’s exacting standards, was now allowed back at the king’s dinner table the following night, and with no Salazar around, was even allowed to sit in his normal place, at Uther’s right hand. The sight of Rowena at Uther’s left hand, however, brought a sullen Arthur no joy. He ate his meal in silence, barely able to look at his father, who only had eyes for Rowena.

Rowena couldn’t help but feel extremely uncomfortable, now that she had become a part of the tension between Arthur and his father. She liked Arthur very much and valued his friendship, and she hated seeing him so wounded. At the same time, she feared that if she were to turn Uther away, especially in front of his son and his ward, she could find herself in serious trouble. Better to be uncomfortable than to be in prison. Uther wanted to feed her cherries and grapes—Morgana laughed with delight, but Arthur looked almost on the verge of tears.

“You should have a woman, Arthur,” Uther said, noticing with irritation his son’s distress. “Surely you are capable?”

“Like any other man, Father,” Arthur muttered.

Uther responded with an audible grunt, then returned his attentions to Rowena. Frustrated, Arthur tossed his napkin on the table, and without excusing himself, stormed off, alone. Morgana giggled.

“He’s so pathetic,” she mused. “Uther, when does Lord Salazar return to Camelot?”

“I believe in four days. My hope is that he and his men will come back with an excellent selection of game.” Turning back to Rowena, Uther smiled lightly. “Lady Rowena, I should like the pleasure of your company later this evening, somewhere…private. Away from prying eyes.”

“Certainly, majesty,” Rowena replied smoothly, struggling to tamp down the sick feeling in her stomach just then.

“Excellent. I shall expect you in my rooms no later than the ninth hour. I believe you have a pale pink gown, correct? I have a splendid set of diamonds that I know will look extremely elegant against that pink…and against your skin.”

“Yes, of course,” Rowena stammered. Morgana winked at her.

Rowena, however, didn’t know what to do. No sooner had she finished her supper then she excused herself, letting Uther believe that she was off to adorn herself for their late night tryst in his bedchamber. In reality, however, Rowena dashed off to find Gaius, desperate for some sort of direction or support or anything. Thankfully, she found him in his rooms, working on a new restorative for some unnamed patient. Gaius was understandably concerned as a frantic Rowena related all the events of the past few days.

“Do you think he’ll expect me to…you know?”

Gaius fretted. “That is hard to say. I’ve known Uther a very long time, but I’ve never known him to take advantage of women. He’s always been devoted to Igraine’s memory.”

“But that was over twenty years ago! Let’s not forget, Gaius, that Uther has been alone for a long time now! It makes perfect sense that he’s simply…overeager for any woman’s touch.”

“Uther is a respectable man. It would shock me deeply if he even dared to try anything with you, that is, unless you were to consent.”

“I may be a witch, Gaius, but I’m also a lady. And a maiden. I do not expect to lose my maidenhood to any man who is not my husband.”

“I doubt he would force you, Rowena,” Gaius replied.

Rowena sighed. “I know. But this isn’t a normal circumstance, Gaius. I can feel it! He’s not himself!”

“Maybe he is.”

“No! I know he’s not!” She paced up and down, wringing her hands. “Gaius, I’m afraid I might have to do something…radical. I think I’m going to have to…do magic in front of Uther, should he take things too far.”

“Now be cautious, Rowena,” Gaius warned. “He simply cannot know what you are, so don’t do anything rash if you don’t need to. Do not presume that Uther will be anything but a gentleman.”

She wanted to believe Gaius’ words of advice, but as she dressed and brushed her hair and renewed her lip colour and perfume, she worried, weighed down by her continuing doubts about how she truly felt about the king. As hard as she tried to clear her mind as she made her way to the king’s rooms, it was no good. And an irate Arthur didn’t make things any easier for her. He tracked her down, just around the corner from the royal suite, furious and ready for a fight.

“What are you doing up here?” he demanded.

“I have been summoned by the king,” Rowena replied coolly.

“You DARE go to his bedchamber?”

“I do not dare, Arthur. He has requested my presence there. That is all.” Seeing his distress, Rowena reached out a friendly hand. “Seriously, Arthur, that’s all it is.”

“Do you love my father?” Arthur asked, though Rowena doubted whether he wanted to hear her answer.

“I…I have come to care about Uther.”

“But that is not the same thing! Are you in love with my father?” Arthur paused. His face fell. “Rowena, if you say you do love him…then alright. I’ll…try to accept it.”

“Arthur, I fear that something terrible is happening to your father.”

“But…”

“I’m not sure,” Rowena continued. “But I might be able to help him. Please just trust me. And trust him, too. I am going to do all I can to sort this out.”

“Then you don’t love him?”

Rowena sighed. “I didn’t say that. As I said, I have truly come to care about your father, which is why I want to help him right now.”

“Then don’t go in there! Beg off, tell him you’re ill!”

“No. I need to go. Arthur, if my suspicion is correct, then so is my solution. Please trust me. Your father will be in good hands.”

Arthur scowled. “Just stay out of his hands.”

* * * * *

She couldn’t help but feel entirely naked, standing before him in the middle of his bedchamber. Though Rowena was fully clothed, she couldn’t help but feel as though Uther was undressing her with his longing gaze at every part of her. Her pink gown shimmered in the soft firelight.

Uther motioned for her to approach the sea of pillows and the supple fur-trimmed mantle spread out on the floor, before the hearth. He poured out wine for both of them as she made herself comfortable at his side. She took a long drink from her goblet and waited for him to make the first move. He ran a very friendly, slightly rough hand down her bare arm and leaned in to kiss her throat.

“You look seraphic tonight,” he whispered.

“Thank you, Uther.” 

She trembled as he kissed her shoulders, now pulling her close to him warmly. As their kiss deepened, she could feel his heartbeat against hers, and she could smell the earthy scent of his cool skin. His kiss tasted like fine wine. Unlike their encounter in the rose garden, his hands now roved to new places, places that made Rowena more than a little uneasy. She knew that if she didn’t act now, he might not be able to stop himself from taking her entirely. Rowena pulled him close, let him lay her back on the pillows so that he was nearly on top of her, kissing her all the more wildly. He felt heavy against her, powerful and strong and…intoxicating.

Rowena ran her fingers through his hair, looked him in the eye and whispered softly, “Finite incantatum.” A soft spark of power left her own body, entering his. Uther stopped, looking suddenly puzzled. He loosened his hold on her slightly.

“What was that you said?” he asked.

She giggled. “Just nonsense words.” She kissed his lips, hoping he wouldn’t ask any further questions. “Something my mother used to say to my father.”

Uther thought a moment, shutting his eyes. He looked at Rowena strangely just then, as if he were trying to conceal some sense of embarrassment or confusion. Suddenly, Rowena realised, to her relief, that whatever spell had been cast on him was now gone. She sighed lightly and smiled at him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Uther sat back, tugging at his shirt, closing up the fastenings. “Forgive me, Rowena. I fear that I may have been somewhat less than a gentleman.”

“Uther…”

“It’s been a very long time since I…well, since…you know.” He sat up and took a drink from his goblet.

“You loved her.”

He nodded. “Igraine was my life.”

“I would never wish to…”

Uther silenced her with a tender kiss. “Please, Rowena, don’t think that…well…” He paused, his eyes troubled. “I do not wish to give you false hopes. I have grown very fond of you but…”

“Yes?”

“I would not wish for you to compromise your reputation.”

“I admire your consideration, Uther. You truly are a gentleman.”

“What happened…I do not wish for you to think that I was…”

Rowena pressed her finger against his lips, silencing him. “I understand. Any other man would have gone much farther, whether I consented or not. I appreciate your solicitude and honor.”

He kissed her again, but then, he let her go, moving back a respectable distance and allowing her to straighten her dress and her hair. Later that night, however, now back in the privacy of her own home, Rowena thought over every detail of the evening—yes, she had broken the Imperius curse that had been cast on Uther, however, what new troubles would that bring upon Salazar’s return from the hunt?


	9. Caught in the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With Lord Salazar off on a hunting trip, everything returns to normal around the palace, to Rowena's relief. But upon Salazar's return..._

“What’s that on your neck?” Gaius asked Rowena the following morning.

She smirked. “What do you suppose?”

“I suppose you were not attacked by a vampire, so all I can conclude is…his majesty?”

“I should probably get rid of it before Arthur sees it. He might not be able to handle it. He caught me, you know, last night as I was making my way to see Uther.”

Gaius frowned. “He must have been upset. Did anyone else see you?”

Rowena shrugged. “I suppose the guards did. The king summoned me, Gaius. I had to go.”

“True. I feel bad for poor Arthur, though,” Gaius commented. “He would never admit this, but he is fiercely protective of his mother’s memory, though he never knew her.”

“Well, with the Imperius curse broken, I suspect things will return to normal, including for Arthur,” Rowena said. Using her wand, she quickly conjured a large breakfast for the two of them—eggs, kippers, hot rolls and ham.

Gaius looked on with wonder as she laid everything out for them. “I’ve never seen such a thing in my life,” he confessed. 

Rowena shrugged. “It’s just a summoning charm. I didn’t create something out of nothing, Gaius. I’m a witch, not a goddess. Hortensia is a much better cook than I, so tuck in.”

As they ate, Rowena related all the details of her encounter with Uther the previous night, including her decision to use magic in front of him. Gaius shook his head dolefully.

“If I hadn’t done so, I think he would have committed an outrage against me,” Rowena said defencively. “He wasn’t himself last night! It was that damned Imperius curse that drove him to such lengths!”

“And if he asks you about the spell you used?” Gaius asked, pointing a roll at her.

“If it comes to that, I can do a quick memory charm on him, Gaius. He’ll never know.” She ate her eggs meditatively. “I just feel bad that things have come to this. It’s all Salazar’s fault, you know. I just wish I knew who he really was and what his goal is here, beyond making Arthur look like a fool.”

“So this is about Arthur?”

“I think it’s about Uther, actually. It’s like it’s some sort of revenge for the Purge.”

“But Salazar isn’t from Camelot.”

“But he is a wizard, regardless. Who knows, though? Maybe he is from Camleot. Maybe Pantano isn’t his real name, or maybe it’s from his mother’s side of the family.”

“But the Slytherins are all from Albion, on both sides.”

“So you think he might be a Slytherin?” Rowena asked.

“I think you believe he’s a Slytherin because he’s a Parselmouth.”

“And you disagree?”

Gaius sighed. “I think you’re looking for a villain where there may be none.”

“I think he’s got us all mixed up. It just seems like we all want to like him, but there’s just something about Salazar that makes it impossible.”

Gaius sat back and watched Rowena finish her breakfast. “Rowena, I think the time has come for you to talk to Merlin. Considering what he is, he should be a part of this. It’s not fair to keep him out any longer.”

She stared at her empty plate and pondered. “I think maybe you’re right.”

* * * * *

Despite her concerns, Rowena’s mood improved drastically that evening. Sitting at Uther’s table, along with Morgana, was a very chuffed Arthur, happy now to be back at his father’s right hand. For the first time in weeks, Arthur grinned and joked and behaved his usual upbeat self. To Rowena’s delight, Uther seemed as pleased as Arthur, taking great enjoyment in all of Arthur’s idle banter. And when the conversation turned to politics and military maneuvers, Uther actually paid attention to Arthur’s ideas, giving him his usual words of approval and encouragement.

Morgana, however, seemed singularly unimpressed. Since Salazar’s long absence on the hunting trip, Morgana had grown rather quiet and sullen, clearly at a loss without the presence of her beloved knight. Seeing Arthur his former self had made Morgana even more sulky, and even more on edge. Rowena hadn’t had as much contact with Morgana these last several weeks since Salazar’s arrival, and she could feel her loss of influence keenly. Rowena thought to try and re-establish their old friendship, but with Salazar due to return in two days, she thought better of it. Instead, she kept her focus on Uther, still playing the role of slight romantic interest but keeping a respectable distance. Never a fan of politics, Rowena nonetheless knew that this was precisely the time for them, for her own survival and for the sake of Camelot. 

As the extravagant meal finally came to a blissful end, Uther motioned for Rowena to remain with him whilst Arthur and Morgana retired to their own rooms. He then motioned for the servants to leave them in peace, pouring out a fine white wine for the two of them.

“You’re in good spirits today,” Rowena commented.

“I think you must be a wonder-worker or an enchantress,” Uther replied.

Rowena laughed. “I hardly think so, Uther.”

“I can’t quite describe it. I’m a military man through and through, Rowena, a hard pragmatist. I have no stomach for fanciful ideas or feminine moodiness and yet, I believe you have had a profound impact on me.”

“You have on me as well,” Rowena replied. “You are a man of many facets.”

“Nonsense,” Uther replied dismissively. “I am a soldier and a leader, nothing more. It wasn’t until last night, though, when I suddenly realised that I’d been under some sort of fog, incapable of making any sort of good judgement. You have done me a great service, Rowena.”

Rowena hardly knew what to say. He should have reverted to his usual indifference towards her, but this…declaration had thrown her entirely. She was so sure he had tried to seduce her as a result of being Imperiused, but now, Rowena had to wonder. Perhaps Uther’s feelings towards her were genuine after all. Yet if they were, what did that make her? After all, this was no ordinary man. Now that she had resolved to distance herself from the king and return to comfortable obscurity, Rowena had to start over with the same questions…about herself.

When the hunting party finally returned, laden with excellent game, Rowena had every intention of seeking out Merlin in order to have that all-important conversation about magic and all these troubles. The moment she ascended the palace steps after breakfast, however, a very excitable Morgana rushed to her, glowing with new glee.

“He’s back!” she gushed at Rowena. “I can barely wait to see him! Come, help me choose a gown!” With that, Morgana grabbed Rowena by the hand and scurried up to her rooms, quickly ordering a sour-faced Gwen to pick fresh flowers from Uther’s rose garden.

“I thought we weren’t to touch the roses, my lady,” Gwen reminded her.

“When he knows they’re for Lord Salazar, he won’t mind,” Morgana replied stiffly, waving her off like a gnat. Rowena looked away.

For the next two hours, Rowena found herself fully entrenched in choosing which color of gown, which set of jewels, what adornments for Morgana’s hair, which perfume and how much and where to place it. Shoes, bracelets, earrings, finishing touches and at long last, Morgana finally felt herself presentable for her beloved. Rowena, on the other hand, needed a nap.

“We shall be such a fine foursome at the feast tonight,” Morgana said brightly as Rowena placed a final pin in her chignon.

“Foursome? And Arthur, surely.”

“Oh, him, yes. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Rowena found she couldn’t disagree. Though she had managed to remove the Imperius curse from Uther, that did not mean that Salazar couldn’t recast it. She wondered just how long it would take before Salazar figured out that his spell over the king had been broken. At dinner, Rowena had to admit, it was hard to tell. Uther was jovial and relaxed and happy to see Salazar again, but he was equally pleased to talk to Arthur and to share ideas with him. From what Rowena could tell, Salazar bore no trace of distress, though she reasoned that perhaps he was merely playacting.

Merlin looked absolutely miserable, and it didn’t help that Arthur had taken up his former role of harassing his servant at every turn. Merlin looked…beaten down and dejected. Rowena could feel his intense negative energy to such a degree that she nearly lost her appetite. Uther sat close, occasionally showering her with words of praise and affection before turning back to Arthur…and to Salazar.

That night, again summoned to Uther’s rooms, Rowena truly felt ill, her mind troubled with too many doubts and concerns. Unfortunately, Uther noticed her foul mood as they sat once again before the hearth, enjoying a glass of mead. He was less affectionate that night, to Rowena’s relief, though he was as attentive and emotionally intense as ever.

“What is it that troubles you tonight?” Uther asked.

“It’s nothing, Uther. I am simply tired.”

“You look ill. I shall send Gaius to you tomorrow morning.”

“That would be fine.”

“And perhaps I shall come by as well. I must check up on my favourite lady and make sure she’s in good spirits.” He leaned forward and kissed her gently, but sat back again to finish his mead.

She left his rooms not long after, feeling the weight of worry as she trudged along the corridor, past the guards, past…Salazar? Rowena stopped for a moment, but then moved onward, wishing only to crawl into bed and try to sleep.

“Lady Rowena?” Salazar called out to her.

“Lord Salazar. What brings you to this part of the palace?”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I should be asking you the same question, particularly at this time of the evening.”

Rowena squared her shoulders. “I hear your hunting trip was a success.”

“Yes, we brought back some excellent venison and wild boar. The palace kitchens will be well supplied for a very long time.”

“And I suppose you congratulate yourself on outdoing Prince Arthur once again.”

“You rather like Arthur, do you not?”

“He is a very fine man,” Rowena replied defencively.

“Yes, so I hear,” Salazar replied acerbically.

“Good night, Lord Salazar,” Rowena seethed.

* * * * *

Gaius did not come to Rowena’s house the following morning, however. Rather, a downcast Merlin came knocking at her door, phial of pink fluid in hand. Rowena invited him in, but Merlin seemed reluctant.

“I’m sorry, Lady Rowena, but I’ve got too many duties today,” he said glumly.

“Arthur’s got you busy again?”

“Not Arthur. Salazar.”

“Please, Merlin, come in for just five minutes. Surely Salazar can spare you for five minutes.”

“Probably not,” Merlin replied, though he did step inside.

“How was it? Serving him, that is?” She motioned for him to sit, which he gratefully did.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, another knock came at the door—without waiting for a response, once again, Uther bounded in, this time dressed in his mail and armour. He took one fierce look at Merlin and snarled viciously.

“How dare you sit in a lady’s house, servant,” he hissed.

“Uther, it’s alright. I invited Merlin to sit a while,” Rowena replied quickly.

“Why isn’t Gaius here?” he demanded of Merlin.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Merlin stammered, standing up and bowing low. “He simply sent me here to deliver this to the Lady Rowena.”

“And now you are finished. Lord Salazar awaits you.”

Merlin hesitated for a moment, enraging Uther further.

“You are dismissed, you idiot!” he snapped. “How dare you hesitate!”

“I apologise, sire,” Merlin replied, bowing again. He hurried toward the door and disappeared into the street, off to find Salazar.

“Uther, that was completely unnecessary,” Rowena lectured. “Merlin was merely sitting with me whilst I took Gaius’ potion.”

“He had no right. You are a lady, whereas he is a servant.”

Rowena bit her lip. “I thought you liked Merlin. You know he’s devoted to Arthur.”

“And he needed by Lord Salazar at present.”

“I think perhaps Merlin is feeling somewhat confused.”

Uther rolled his eyes impatiently. “That wouldn’t take much effort.”

“You have to see this from Merlin’s perspective, Uther, and yes, servants do have feelings and ideas of their own.”

“What is your point?” Uther asked, growing more impatient.

“Let Merlin return to Arthur’s service. Find Lord Salazar a different servant, someone like Cieran. I’m sure he’d be proud to serve Lord Salazar.”

Uther sat for a moment, pondering the suggestion while a nervous Rowena looked on. She had never spoken to Uther that way before, and though he had been so affectionate towards her recently, she knew that his mercurial temperament could drive him to cast her out, just like that. He motioned for her to sit next to him, and when he put a heavy arm around her and pulled her close, Rowena saw that she had gotten her way.

He chuckled. “What would I do without you to make me behave?”

She smiled and kissed him. “Somehow I think you’d survive just fine.”

Uther sighed. “I don’t know about that, Rowena. I think I might not.” Before she could reply, he stood up. “I have maneuvers today. I have to check up on Salazar, make sure he’s doing his job properly.”

After Uther left, Rowena rushed out to find Gaius and more importantly, to find Merlin. Gaius was easy to find. Nearly always in his rooms, Gaius was hard at work on some new remedy for an unnamed patient. The whole room smelled slightly of sulfur, a fine white mist tickling the windows. Rowena crinkled her nose and knocked softly on the door frame.

“Hello!” she called out.

“I heard what happened,” Gaius replied, not looking away from his task.

“Merlin told you?”

“Uther, actually. He stopped me in the middle of the square and reminded me that when he gives me an order, he does not expect a proxy.”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “Goodness! But at least Merlin won’t be serving Salazar any longer.” She sat down and watched him work. “When I left Uther last night, I ran straight into Salazar. I’m sure he was on his way to Uther’s rooms. I doubt he would miss the fact that the curse had been broken, but…”

“But what?”

“Salazar knows I’m a witch, and he knows I’m close to the king.”

“He wouldn’t strike out at you, would he? He must know how powerful you are.” Gaius poured his concoction into a glass bulb and rolled it over a low flame.

“You know, Gaius, I could show you a thing or two about potion making,” Rowena noted. “I was pretty good at all sorts of things when I was a bit younger.” She stopped, her eyes alight with a new thought. “In fact, I can show you how to make a potion that can protect people from spells and curses…at least most of them.”

“Against the Imperius curse?”

“Probably. I could make it and test it out on you, see if it works.”

Gaius looked unconvinced. “And if it fails?”

Rowena laughed. “Then you have to do whatever I say!”

“Maybe you should Imperius the king.”

“I would never do that, Gaius! Don’t even suggest it!” Rowena replied sharply. “To Imperius someone is to deprive them of their free will—it’s unforgivable.” She paused, thinking a bit. “You know, I’d actually like to consult someone about this. My distant cousin, Godric, is an expert at potion-making, much better than I.” She thought again. “In fact, he might be someone Merlin should meet!”

“Where does Godric live?”

“In the north. He comes from very noble stock, actually. His castle rivals this one easily. Merlin could meet him and we could have a bit of privacy.”

“But that would take days, wouldn’t it?”

Rowena grinned. “Just a few minutes, actually. Once Merlin returns home, send him straight to my house, alright?”

Gaius grunted his reluctant approval. “And hope Uther doesn’t get there first.”


	10. Arthur Arrested!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“My dear,” Uther said quietly, “there have been allegations and scandalous rumours. Arthur must be accountable for what he’s done.”_
> 
> _“What has he done?” Rowena cried. She couldn’t imagine that Arthur would spread rumours about his own father, no matter how poorly Uther treated him._
> 
> _She whipped around at the clank and thump of the heavy doors being opened, and she goggled at the inconceivable sight of Prince Arthur being led by armed guards before his angry father. The shoved him forward as if he were a common thief. Rowena noticed his wrists were bound by thick manacles, though he looked otherwise unhurt. So far._
> 
> _Another knight stepped forward, his face bruised and bloody—Rowena wondered whether Arthur blacked the man’s eyes…or if Uther did._

No Merlin. Not for hours. Where was he? 

As Rowena passed the time helping Gaius with his potion, giving him a few tips here and there, only Gwen appeared, frantic and tearstained and pale. Rowena rushed to her, gathered her in a gentle embrace and brought her to sit by the fire. Gaius set down his potion and grabbed a cool cloth, which he pressed lightly to her forehead and cheeks.

“What is it, my dear?” he asked, horrified by her distress.

“Arthur…” she gasped. “He’s been…accused of…of slandering the king!” Gwen dissolved into tears.

“Where’s Merlin, Gwen?” Rowena asked.

“He’s…he’s in…in the Great Hall…it’s so awful! The king is threatening to have Arthur…flogged! I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh my goodness!” Rowena exclaimed. “Gaius, I need to go! This is terrible!”

She dashed out, rushing straight to the Great Hall, only to be blocked by the palace guards. Silently, she uttered a quick spell to force them back, then stormed into the room, not sure what she might say to Uther in the next ten seconds.

Uther jumped to his feet. “Lady Rowena, this is no place for you,” he said sternly.

“Oh, I think it is,” she shot back. Looking around, she saw no evidence of Arthur. Only an ashen-faced Merlin, a smug Morgana and a very calm Salazar stood among the gathering of knights, nobles and statesmen.

Uther’s face fell, and he summoned her to him, his arms outstretched. “My dear,” he said quietly, “there have been allegations and scandalous rumours. Arthur must be accountable for what he’s done.”

“What has he done?” Rowena cried. She couldn’t imagine that Arthur would spread rumours about his own father, no matter how poorly Uther treated him.

She whipped around at the clank and thump of the heavy doors being opened, and she goggled at the inconceivable sight of Prince Arthur being led by armed guards before his angry father. The shoved him forward as if he were a common thief. Rowena noticed his wrists were bound by thick manacles, though he looked otherwise unhurt. So far.

Another knight stepped forward, his face bruised and bloody—Rowena wondered whether Arthur blacked the man’s eyes…or if Uther did.

“Now then, Sir Berwyn,” Uther began, pulling himself up to his full, considerable height. “You will relate to the court exactly what Arthur said to you and the other knights.”

Sir Berwyn, who Rowena surmised couldn’t have been much more than about nineteen or twenty, shifted his nervous blue eyes between an anguished Arthur, a confused Rowena and an inscrutable Salazar. “I…I only overheard things, sire,” he began, his voice shaking.

“What did he say?” Uther seethed through gritted teeth.

“Well…that…that you and…” Sir Berwyn paused, his glance landing on Rowena. “Well that you and she were…well…”

“Yes?”

“Humping like dogs, sire.”

Everyone, Salazar included, gasped audibly. Arthur struggled against the guards, wanting only to bash in Sir Berwyn’s face.

“I didn’t say that!” Arthur shouted.

“Really, Arthur?” Uther asked. “What exactly did you say?”

“I said nothing! I swear it, Father! He’s lying!”

“And why should Sir Berwyn wish to lie about you? What has he to gain?”

“Please, Father,” Arthur begged. “You must believe me! I would never say that about you or Lady Rowena or about anyone!”

“Your majesty, I…” Rowena began.

Like wildfire, Uther turned on her, sticking a gloved finger in her face. “Stay out of this, woman!”

Steeling herself, Rowena squared her shoulders and glared at him. “NOBODY speaks to me that way!” she shouted back. “I don’t care who you are! You will not treat me like that! How you can take the word of a new knight over that of your own son is a travesty, Uther Pendragon!”

For a moment, Rowena thought Uther might actually lash out and strike her, but to her great relief, he stood back, glowering at her. “Guards, escort the Lady Rowena to her house. Then escort my son to jail, where he shall remain until he decides to apologise.”

“I will not apologise!” Arthur bellowed. “I have done nothing wrong!”

“And once he has apologised,” Uther went on, ignoring Arthur’s outburst, “have him publically flogged. He can recover in the luxury of his rooms afterward whilst I decide what to do with him.”

* * * * *

The night was so quiet…too quiet. More than anything, Rowena longed for the chatter of humanity all around her, but like traitors, they had gone far away. Sitting alone in the dark of her house, Rowena dried her eyes for the thousandth time, unable to retreat from her angry thoughts and deep grief. How could one man bring so much chaos, so much pain? The expressionless face of Salazar littered Rowena’s mind, as did violent musings of putting out his eyes or performing the killing curse on him.

For the first time since her return to Camelot, Rowena wanted to leave, to go away and never return. Heck with all of these muggles! Who cared about their petty arguments and power plays? Who needed them? She could run off, take Merlin and even Salazar with her, abscond to her cousin in the north and start over, far away from muggle concerns. Rowena conjured a flagon of pumpkin juice, something her mother taught her to make, and poured out a goblet for herself. It tasted rich and sweet, but it wasn’t enough to make her feel any better, especially knowing that Arthur sat in his father’s dank, cold jail cell awaiting nothing but punishment and bloodshed.

She would have to act. After all, Rowena felt partly responsible for this situation. Had she turned down Uther’s advances, controlled her urges, remembered who he was and what she was, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. Still, she had meant no harm in taking up with Uther and in fact, had come to enjoy his attentions. Plus, Uther had been Imperiused when he first seduced her—no, this was no one’s fault but Salazar’s. She would have to act.

Rowena decided to make a late night visit to the jail, mostly just to check up on Arthur, fearing the very worst. Naturally, the guards were not likely to admit anyone to see the imprisoned prince, especially the lady at the centre of the controversy. Thus, drastic actions would have to be taken. Apparating to a darkened, empty corridor deep underneath the castle, Rowena made her way quietly to where Arthur was. The place had a strong, stale stench, far different from the elegance of the palace and its beautiful rooms. Everything felt cold and damp—she could hear water dripping as her shoes crunched on the gravel beneath her feet.

Arthur lay lifeless and mortified on a loose pile of straw, his handsome face filled with pain. She ran her hand over the lock, whispering, “Alohomora.” The lock clicked, but before she opened the door, she laid her hands on the iron bars, whispering, “Silencio.” The door opened without a sound. Inside the cell, she knelt down before Arthur and shook him a little by the shoulder.

“Arthur,” she whispered in his ear.

He sat up, startled by her unexpected presence in the jail cell. “What are you doing in here?” he hissed. “My father didn’t have you arrested, did he?”

“No.”

He mussed the straw out of his blond hair, then rubbed his empty stomach. “I can’t believe this is happening, Rowena.”

She reached inside her cloak, secretly conjuring a bit of bread and some cheese. “Here. I brought this for you. I don’t expect they’re giving you much down here.”

“Father ordered the guards to treat me like any other prisoner. Builds character, or some such nonsense. Thanks.” He took a bite of bread, chewing rather loudly as Rowena handed him a conjured flagon of water. He accepted it with a nod of his head and took a long drink.

“I’ll have to take the flagon with me. Don’t want to leave the evidence lying around.”

Arthur forced a smile, then finished his meal. “I was really starving,” he confessed. “You brought the good stuff. The guards have been giving me moldy, dried up crusts and no water.” He paused. “You’re a good friend, Rowena. I can even understand why my father cares about you so much.”

Rowena didn’t know how to respond to that. “Remember what you told me a while back, about Salazar maybe being a sorcerer?”

Arthur nodded. “I don’t know why I said that, truly. I was just angry.”

“But you might not have been wrong.”

He frowned, his mind racing. “Are you saying he’s got…my father under some sort of enchantment?”

“I think he is. Somehow the spell was lifted, I think, but ever since he’s been back from his hunting trip, he’s put it back.”

Arthur pondered what she said, eyes shut. “I’ve been trying to deny it all along, you know, making it out to be my own fault.”

“I know. I’ve seen you do all you could to outdo Salazar only…”

“Only I can’t, as I’m no sorcerer.” His face fell. “I’m in a lot of trouble, then. Rowena, I can’t confess to this slander, but if I don’t, then I’ll stay imprisoned forever! Hey!”

“What?”

“Remember what I told you before, that Gaius used to know all that magic rubbish?”

“You said he no longer practiced it.”

“True, but maybe could again.”

“And if your father found out, he’d have Gaius executed.”

Arthur scowled. “But…maybe he knows someone. Father once told me that Gaius knew every sorcerer in Camelot!”

“But they’re all gone, all burned to death in the Purge.”

“Maybe not! Maybe some survived! Perhaps the Druids would help, if only Gaius could locate them.”

“It’s possible, I suppose. Arthur, I’ll do what I can for you. I’ll go to Gaius directly, see what he knows.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight. I promise.”

Rowena remained a few more minutes with Arthur, then departed the way she came, though this time she apparated to a darkened, abandoned alleyway near her house. Before she made her way to Gaius, to find Merlin, Rowena penned a quick note to her cousin, Godric:

_My dear Godric,  
I hope this letter finds you in good health. As you know, I currently reside in the dreaded Camelot. For many years, life here was peaceful and fruitful, however, since the arrival of a menacing wizard, called Salazar, things have changed dramatically. Godric, I shall come to Hogwarts straightaway, bringing with me another wizard, a young man called Merlin. We need your help in this, and as you are a far superior potion-maker than I, I greatly need your skills._

_Until tomorrow, then. May the gods keep you safe._

_Rowena._

Rolling up the note and tying it with a bit of twine, she tapped it with her wand, uttering, “Missio Hogwarts!” With that, the note vanished. Rowena poured out some mead for herself, conjured a plate of chicken and vegetables and sat down to eat a little dinner before she went out to find Merlin and take him with her to see Godric. A knock came at the door, which Rowena ignored, figuring that if it were Uther, he would just barge in anyway, regardless. Nothing. A second knock. Perhaps it was Gaius or Gwen or even Morgana.

But it was not Gaius or Gwen or Morgana or Uther. Rather, Rowena found herself face-to-face with a guard, lance in hand.

“Yes?” she said politely.

“The king wishes to summon you to his rooms at the tenth hour, my lady,” he replied dutifully.

“I’m afraid I’m not available this evening,” Rowena answered coolly. “His majesty will have to find his entertainment elsewhere tonight.”

The guard looked confused. “So you’re…refusing a summons?”

“That is correct.” Before he could reply, Rowena shut the door in his face and locked it tight. She knew this would cause some trouble, but she was indignant enough at the way Uther had treated Arthur and at the way he had spoken to her, so that Rowena couldn’t bring herself to feel remotely guilty.

Besides, she had things to do, so her refusal wasn’t merely an excuse or a lie. Grabbing her traveling cloak, which she secured around her shoulders, Rowena went out the back door, locking that as well, and apparated directly to Gaius, in hopes of finding Merlin.

* * * * *

Thankfully, Gaius was alone. In her eagerness to get on with things, she had neglected to consider the possibility that Gaius might be in the presence of a patient, or heavens forbid, the king. Gaius never noticed her sudden presence, however, being on a high ladder grabbing a book on frog spawn. Rowena cleared her throat loudly, catching his attention.

“Rowena! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in!” Gaius descended the ladder and set the book on a cluttered chair.

“I’m in search of Merlin, actually.” 

Gaius scowled. “Well, he should be cleaning his room but he’s probably sleeping. I’ll fetch him for you.”

Whilst she waited, Rowena glanced at a potion Gaius was working on—something about it didn’t look quite right. Grabbing a pinch of dittany, Rowena sprinkled it in and gave the potion a little stir, until the color turned from a rancid green to a much more attractive amber. It smelled better, too. Finally, Gaius emerged with a rumpled Merlin.

Rowena laughed. “How’s the cleanup going, Merlin?”

He reddened slightly. “Actually, it’s not. Gaius and I were just having a chat about that.” Gaius threw him a glare.

“Maybe I can help you with that, Merlin,” Rowena offered, putting a hand on her bag.

“Rowena, this is Merlin’s responsibility,” Gaius replied sharply.

“No, I think it’s exactly what I should do.”

Merlin reddened even more. “Seriously, Lady Rowena, it’s not your duty.”

Rowena grinned. “Nonsense! Besides, I’ve got plenty of practice. My mother trained me very well.

“Too bad Merlin wasn’t trained,” Gaius grumbled.

Rowena thought a moment. “Well then, Merlin, how would you like to take a little trip with me?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Lady Rowena, I mean, I know Arthur is in prison, but now, King Uther has me doing odd jobs for all the knights.”

“This won’t take too long. Just two or three hours, maybe a little more.”

“Where is this trip?”

Rowena smirked. “Oh, you’ll see. Come on, Merlin! You’re always ripe for adventure, right?”

Merlin looked excited, but then he glanced at a stern Gaius. He bit his lip. “Gaius, would you mind if I…”

“Please,” Gaius replied, gesturing grandly. “As long as you clean up this mess when you return.”

They walked and walked, Merlin jabbering all the way, talking about anything and everything, but avoiding the touchy subject of Arthur’s imprisonment. Rowena rather enjoyed the nonstop blather, happily losing herself in Merlin’s winding train of thought. She wondered briefly about the sort of wizard he would become as he matured—maybe Godric could have a positive influence over him, take him on as a sort of protégé.

“So where is this cave, Lady Rowena?” Merlin asked.

“Just up ahead.”

They walked through the thick grove, both careful to avoid snakeholes and loose branches and any other obstacle—like always, Rowena felt electric when she was out of doors during these late hours. She took in the cool air deep into her lungs, exhaling slowly and deliberately as she felt the magic of the breeze caress her fingertips.

Merlin paused before the mouth of the cave, protectively taking Rowena’s arm. He put his other hand on the sword he’d brought along.

“Careful,” he said quietly. “These caves often have monsters guarding them.”

She winked at him. “This one doesn’t,” she replied. “I checked before.”

Merlin loosened his hold on her arm, ever so slightly. “What’s special about this particular cave then? What’s in there?”

“No one and nothing. It’s perfect.”

As they entered the freezing cold cave together, Merlin rebuked himself. “I should have brought a torch. I can’t see a thing!”

“Merlin, do you get dizzy?” Rowena asked, ignoring his comments.

“Only when I spin around. Thankfully, I don’t really do that much.”

Rowena laughed. “That’s good! This is our point of departure, so take my hands and and hold on tight.”

“What do you mean?”

Rowena reached out and took Merlin’s hands in hers. “Hold on tight. Don’t let go or you might land anywhere!”

“Land? What do you…”

But Merlin never got a chance to finish his sentence. With a light pop, Rowena and Merlin vanished from the cave.


	11. Godric Gryffindor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On a mission to save Arthur and Camelot from destruction, Rowena and Merlin seek the help of her cousin, Godric Gryffindor...but she also has to tell the truth about her affair with Uther. Will Godric give them what they need to put a stop to Salazar's revenge?_

POP!

Rowena and a frightened, dizzy Merlin landed in a dark forest—Rowena landed on her feet, but Merlin…didn’t. Instead, he ended up partly on one shoulder and partly on his head. Unable to stand up, Merlin turned a pale shade of green, rolled over onto one side and vomited. Rowena conjured a large handkerchief and a little water so Merlin could clean up a bit—once he could sit up.

“Come on, now, I’ll help,” she said, squatting down to mop up his chin and to dry his watering eyes. “Don’t worry, Merlin. Most people throw up the first time they apparate. I was sick for three hours my first time.”

“You’re a…you’re a sorceress!” Merlin gasped. His entire body shook from the shock.

“A witch, actually,” Rowena replied casually. She pointed her wand at his shirt and said, “Scourgify!” To Merlin’s shock, his stained, slightly smelly shirt was now perfectly clean.

“I don’t believe it!” he crowed. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Only Gaius and Morgana know,” Rowena said, sitting down next to him. She vanished the pile of sick with another flick of her wand. “I didn’t tell you for the same reason you don’t tell Arthur about yourself.”

He looked puzzled. “About…me? How…”

“I just know. No one told me, Merlin, trust me. Magic is energy, and the astute witch or wizard can sense the magical presence of another. I knew you were a wizard the first moment I saw you.”

Merlin paused, his eyes bewildered, but then… “This is GREAT!” Merlin exclaimed. “Lady Rowena, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to talk to anyone…ANYONE…about magic! I mean, Gaius understands, but it’s not really the same with him.” But then he frowned. “How does Morgana know?”

“I told her myself. Actually, she figured it out on her own and I found I couldn’t lie to her, especially as she’s a witch as well.”

“And you could…sense her magic, too?”

Rowena nodded. “Lord Salazar is a wizard as well, though I’m sure you already knew that.”

“Yeah. I’m half tempted to use magic to get Arthur out of prison, but…”

“Leave him there, Merlin,” Rowena cautioned him. “Arthur can take care of himself, at least for now. If it comes to that, we’ll get him out but if that happens, you cannot be a part of it.”

“I should be!” Merlin protested. “It’s my duty to protect him!”

“Which will be impossible if he were to know you’re a wizard. He would be forced to follow Uther’s law regarding magic. On the other hand, my hope is that it won’t come to that, which is why you and I are here.”

Merlin stood up, his head clear. “Where are we?” 

“In the north. Not far from the land of the Picts.” Rowena dusted the blades of grass off her skirts, then picked a small twig from Merlin’s hair.

“Aren’t they savages?”

Rowena chuckled at that. “Aren’t we all? We’re going to see my cousin, Godric. I haven’t been up here in ages!”

“Is this Godric…like us?”

“Yes, Merlin. He’s a wizard, and a very powerful one.”

As they made their way out of the forest and onto the lush green lawns of Godric’s estate, Merlin could help but look all around him like an over-curious child. Everywhere he glanced he saw stone gargoyles and lush trees and rolling hillsides. Up ahead stood a grand castle, a palace that easily rivaled Camelot.

“That’s the house,” Rowena said with a wink.

Merlin laughed. “House? This makes Uther’s castle look like a closet!”

“Just don’t let the king hear you say that, Merlin. You know how he gets.”

“He was really rude to you,” Merlin noted.

“He’s not himself,” Rowena replied firmly. “He’s enchanted.”

Merlin shook his head in frustration. “I can’t understand it all. I can’t believe that Arthur really said such an awful thing about you, about his own father!”

“Sir Berwyn’s memory has been modified, or at least that’s my belief,” Rowena said. “He truly believes what he said because a false memory has been implanted in his mind.” She stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh no,” she breathed.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Later, Merlin, after we talk to Godric.”

* * * * *

Godric Gryffindor was wise, witty, charming, redheaded. He was much taller than Merlin expected, far more jovial than he could have anticipated. Merlin had always thought of sorcerers as being sober, serious and…boring, yet none of these words could even begin to describe the outgoing Godric.

He welcomed Rowena and Merlin grandly, ordered his team of servants to lay out food and drink and to light the hearth in the Great Hall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Godric said with a booming voice. “Rowena, you look as beautiful as ever!”

“Honestly, Godric,” Rowena replied, laughing.

“And who is this devilishly handsome young man?”

“Godric Gryffindor, meet Merlin.”

At Merlin’s name, Godric’s blue eyes opened wide. “Merlin? My goodness!”

“What?” Merlin asked, mystified.

“You are a living legend,” Godric pronounced. “The ancient prophecies of the old religion all speak of your name, Merlin, or should I say, Emrys. It is a great honour to be in your presence.”

Merlin blushed. “Seriously, sir, I’m not that great.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Godric insisted. “You may be young, but your accomplishments are many, are they not?”

Merlin shrugged. “Well, maybe a little.”

Godric laughed. “I hope you always stay modest, Merlin. You will get much farther in life as long as you remain modest.”

With another grand gesture, Godric brought them to the Great Hall, where they sat and enjoyed he feast laid out before them. The tiny servants rushed around them, making sure their goblets were full and the food was fresh. Merlin ate and ate.

“I guess you got your stomach back,” Rowena said with a smirk. “We apparated,” she added for Godric’s benefit.

“Oh yes, apparation. Most people vomit the first time,” Godric mused.

“Did you?” Merlin asked, his mouth full of kippers.

“No. Then again, I did get splinched a couple of times. Painful business.”

“What’s splinched mean?”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “It means that apparation isn’t for everyone.”

“I accidentally left an ear behind once,” Godric recounted. “Horrible! I couldn’t hear for a week until Helga managed to heal it for me.”

“Helga? New girl?” Rowena asked slyly.

“She’s a Saxon, actually,” Godric said. “We like to duel.”

“I didn’t know you had a sword,” Rowena teased.

“Biggest one in the region,” Godric replied, puffing out his chest. Rowena laughed, but Merlin looked on, confused and unamused. “Helga and her husband are friends of my mother’s actually. Her husband died a while back, and Helga comes to visit from time to time. She’s very academic.”

“Teaching you new magic tricks?” Rowena chided.

“Something like that.”

“How did her husband die?” Merlin asked, now tucking into a huge plate of lamb stew.

“Manticore attack,” Godric replied with a shudder. “Awful. Tore him to bits. It was so sad. They’d only been married for five or six years and then, just like that, poof! Gone. I keep telling her she should come up here and stay permanently, but there’s no convincing her. Likes her independence.”

“I know how she feels,” Rowena said with a grumble.

“So, cousin mine, is there a man in your life, that is other than Merlin?”

Rowena paused. “It’s…complicated.”

Godric grinned. “So go on, shock me.”

Rowena took a long drink from her goblet, steeling herself. “It’s the king. Uther Pendragon.”

“WHAT?” Godric exclaimed. “Rowena, have you lost your mind?”

“As I said, Godric, it’s complicated.”

“You can’t possibly be in love with him!”

As Rowena explained the situation to her cousin and to a rather scandalised Merlin, Godric started to calm down. By the time she finished her story, Godric looked ashen.

“This Salazar fellow, you really think he’s part of the Slytherin clan?” Godric asked, his eyes focused on Rowena’s.

“I’m sure of it.”

“Rowena, this is not good. You do know that your father was on very friendly terms with Salazar’s father and uncle, do you not? Their alliance was notorious throughout the magical world!”

“My father was not a dark wizard, Godric! You know that!”

“Of course he wasn’t, Rowena, but he was a shrewd businessman. Lorcan Ravenclaw didn’t make all his gold through alchemy!”

“I’ve heard of him,” Merlin piped up. “You’re the daughter of Lorcan Ravenclaw?”

Rowena sat up proudly. “I am.”

“He helped my mother, you know,” Merlin continued. “Our whole village. We’d had a bad harvest one year, and we nearly starved. We had nothing. Lorcan apparently heard about it and donated gold and food. He saved their lives.”

“I remember that,” Rowena said. “But surely that was before the Purge.”

“Rowena, you know this…dalliance with the king can’t go on. Think of your father. You know, this Salazar fellow might be somewhat justified in what he’s doing in Camelot,” Godric pointed out.

“If he has an argument with Uther, then he should confront Uther! He has no right taking this out on innocent people!” Rowena shot back. “It’s pure cowardice!”

“How would you feel if you had watched your parents burn to death?” Godric asked simply. “How would you feel if you had watched your neighbours and friends burn to death?”

“That’s not the point!” Rowena snapped.

“It is entirely the point!” Godric shouted. “Down the path from here, a town has sprung up, called Hogsmeade. You know who lives there?”

“No.”

“People who fled Camelot and its surrounding regions, fearing for their lives! Witches and wizards who came here traumatised and damaged and despondent because of what Uther Pendragon did to their families and friends! Go there some time, see for yourself! And when you tell them you allow that…TYRANT…to kiss you and caress you, see how long it takes them to hex you!”

Rowena sat back, mortified.

“So we should let Camelot fall?” Merlin asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. He had finally stopped eating.

“No, of course not. The people of Camelot are innocent. They only hate wizards and witches because they’ve been trained to.” Godric had composed himself by then, abashed by his cousin’s distress. He poured more mead for them all. “I wish we had our own world,” he contemplated. “Our own laws, our own traditions, our own schools. No muggle tyrant could take away our lives or our rights again.”

“I’ve thought the same thing,” Rowena said glumly. Merlin said nothing.

“Rowena, I’m sorry,” Godric said. “I know this is a hard situation for you. I had no right yell like that.”

“I’ve already yelled at myself,” Rowena replied.

“Do you love him?”

She hesitated. “I…I don’t know. Maybe I’m just blinded by his…whatever.”

Godric grinned. “Well, you always did go for the big, strapping, dangerous type. I only hope he’s man enough for you.”

She laughed. “Oh, he’s plenty, believe me. Am I a…a whore?”

Merlin’s eyes bugged out at that, but Godric only looked at Rowena with sympathy.

“Have you and he…you know?” Godric asked.

“No! Never! He’s always been a perfect gentleman, at least in that regard.”

“Rowena, it’s your life and your choice,” Godric replied. “If you genuinely find something in him that you love, then you have to follow that. But if you truly believe you are compromising yourself by being with him, then leave him. Come here! Duel with me and Helga! Bring your Slytherin friend!”

Rowena laughed. “He’s no friend of mine!”

“You know, Rowena, it might be a solution. He can be an integral part of something great, something positive! A whole new world of magic, away from muggles!”

Rowena scowled at that. “He’s not that idealistic, Godric. The man is out to destroy Camelot and take his revenge! I’m sure he won’t be tempted by promises of a new, magical world!”

“Then we’ll have to thwart him. Come, you two. Let’s go to the dungeons.”

* * * * *

Rowena shivered in the dark, dank stone dungeon, but Merlin couldn’t get enough of all the strange little bottles and jars of unknown substances.

“Gaius would run mad in a place like this,” he said with wonder.

“Gaius?”

“Former sorcerer,” Rowena explained. “Of the muggle persuasion naturally.”

“He’s sort of my mentor,” Merlin added.

Godric fumbled around noisily in a low cabinet for a couple of minutes, finally producing two bottles. The blue one bore a V on its seal, but the purple one bore a dragon, which flapped its wings.

“These should help you out quite a bit,” he said, handing them both to Rowena. “This one, with the dragon, is a special potion Helga developed on her last visit here. Basically, it protects the drinker from any curses or hexes for up to twelve hours.”

“So you take it morning and night?” Rowena asked.

“Exactly. It can be put in food or drink, as it has no flavour or colour.”

“So she gives it to the king, and he can’t be cursed?” Merlin wondered.

“Precisely. Rowena, this means you need to continue your relationship with him, regardless of anything. Until this Salazar fellow is properly dealt with, the king must take this potion.”

“What’s the other one?” Merlin asked, fingering the V on the seal.

“It’s a new potion, one that was just developed and perfected about two months ago,” Godric said rather proudly.

“By you?” Merlin asked.

“Precisely! It’s called Veritaserum. This one needs to be given to Salazar, but only when the time is right. Merlin, you’re the one who will likely have to give it to him.”

“What does it do?” Merlin wondered.

“It forces the drinker to tell the absolute truth,” Godric explained.

Rowena clapped her hand over her mouth, laughing aloud. “Godric, that’s wicked!”

“It cuts through the proverbial treacle when need be.”

Merlin grinned. “I think it’s perfect. Salazar should take it just before King Uther interrogates him about the slander.”

“Now you can’t just use it any old time,” Godric warned. “This stuff is very powerful and in the wrong hands, it could be dangerous. Get that spell off the king first, and protect him from further curses. Then you can go from there, especially if you can get some information on Salazar. You need proof that he truly is from the Slytherin clan. Conjecture isn’t enough, especially if the king truly is under his spell.”

“I can do that,” Merlin offered.

“Aren’t you busy with Uther’s knights?” Rowena asked.

Merlin grinned impishly. “Alright, see, you can’t breathe a word of this to Gaius or anyone! I read in one of Gaius’ books about how you can…shapeshift.”

Godric grinned. “You’re a shapeshifter, Merlin?”

“Well I’ve only done it three times, but yeah!”

“Shapeshifters are born, not made,” Godric noted. “I can’t believe you’ve only done it three times.”

Merlin shrugged. “I didn’t know I had the ability, I guess.”

“So you can turn into anything? Any size?”

Merlin nodded. “Well, I suppose.”

Rowena threw her arms around Merlin and squealed. “This is perfect! Merlin, I love you!”

“Careful, Rowena,” Godric laughed. “He’s barely out of his nappies!”


	12. The Plot against Lord Salazar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With no time to lose, Rowena, Merlin and Gaius set out to get their plot in motion...yet Rowena is confronted by a new crisis--her feelings for the tyrant, Uther Pendragon. And to make things even more confusing, Uther seems to feel the same way about her. Can she keep her secret from him? Can she free him from Salazar's spell before it's too late?_

The cave was just as cold and empty and damp as it was when they left it, hours before. Though he kept his stomach this time, Merlin still had to sit down for a few minutes and clear his spinning head.

“I don’t think I like this apparation thing,” he noted. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

Rowena laughed and patted his knee. “You’ll get used to it, if you practice. I’m happy to show you any time.”

Merlin groaned and clutched his very full stomach. “I think I’ll have to wait on that, at least until my head stops spinning.”

“So what did you think of Godric?” She conjured flagons of pumpkin juice for them both.

“He’s unbelievable,” Merlin said quixotically. “I’ve never met anyone like him.” He made a face as he tasted the pumpkin juice.

“You don’t like it.”

“It’s…different.” He hung his head for a moment. “I’m still not over the fact that you’re a witch. But your magic seems different from mine.”

“There’s lots of types,” Rowena conceded. “It runs in families, so different people have different abilities. You’re a shapeshifter, Salazar is a Parselmouth, I’m a conjurer. You can learn most types of magic, though, well, except for being a Parselmouth. That’s for the few and the downright scary.”

The whole walk back to Camelot, Merlin threw a barrage of questions about magic at Rowena, almost as if he were a brand new wizard. She answered most of his questions, which then brought up new questions. Suddenly, Merlin stopped.

“Why are we walking when you can apparate?”

“Courtesy,” Rowena replied. “And habit. Most witches and wizards place anti-apparation charms on their homes so no unwelcome visitors can enter. In fact, I suggest you do that to your own room. We don’t know whether Salazar can apparate, though I don’t think he can.”

“What about the palace?” Merlin asked. “Should we place…anti-apparation charms on it?”

“It’s not a wizard residence.”

“And if you become Uther’s queen, then it will be.”

Rowena blanched at that. “Let’s just take things one day at a time, alright, Merlin? Don’t throw me in Uther’s bed until I’ve said ‘I do.’”

“Would you? I mean if he asked.”

“Marry Uther Pendragon? I don’t know.” Would she? The thought both terrified her and enticed her at the same time.

“I think you’re being a bit unfair to him, even if he is a tyrant.”

“What do you mean?” Rowena asked.

“I just think maybe you’re misleading him about your intentions.”

“I don’t mean to mislead him!” Rowena replied harshly. “It almost makes me wonder whether he’s bewitched me.”

“Maybe Salazar bewitched you,” Merlin suggested.

“I made this choice on my own, though I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It’s just…if he ever found out about you…”

“I know, Merlin! He’d have my head!”

Merlin paused. “And a lot of people would understand his anger,” he said slowly. “I know I would, I mean, as a man I would.”

“Because I lied about what I am?”

“Because it would be a grave humiliation for him. He would automatically think that you were the one who bewitched him in order to get power for yourself, and even though that’s not true, few would dispute it.”

“So you agree with Godric?” Rowena asked indignantly.

“Yeah. I do. I just think that…if you have any true affection for Uther, then end your romance with him.”

Rowena frowned as they walked on in contemplative silence. “I don’t mean to humiliate him,” she finally confessed.

“I think you do love him,” Merlin commented.

Rowena found she couldn’t disagree. Her skin prickled in the cold night air.

* * * * *

It was nearly sunrise as an exhausted Rowena finally entered her house, so tired she nearly didn’t notice Uther, sitting at the table, waiting patiently. He did not stand when she entered, unlike his usual, polite bow. Rowena could only stare stupidly at him, dumbfounded, wondering whether he was there to seduce her or have her arrested.

“You’re late,” he said plainly.

“You are unbelievable, Uther!” Rowena seethed. “You and I are the subjects of vile gossip, and then you show up at my house in the late hours of the night? What are you thinking? Don’t you care about your reputation? About mine?”

“You and I have nothing to be ashamed of,” he replied forcefully. “I have never treated you with anything other than complete respect.”

“Until you stuck your finger in my face in front of the whole bloody court!”

Uther sighed. “You know we must talk about this. I came here to…”

“My door was locked.”

“I had it unlocked,” he replied with a haughty sniff.

She pursed her lips and glared at him. “Well, it’s your kingdom.” Rowena moved towards her bedroom, but Uther stopped her.

“Won’t you give me a hearing?” he asked.

She shrugged. “It’s your kingdom.”

“It’s your house.”

“Which you broke into and entered uninvited.”

Uther lowered his eyes. “Well, it’s my kingdom,” he said lightly.

Rowena barely suppressed a laugh. “Well, then, your hearing is granted.”

Uther motioned for her to sit, which she did. He pulled up a low stool and moved close to her, his musky scent tickling her nose. “What I said to you earlier, Rowena, was unforgivable.”

She found herself nodding in agreement. “I saw a very ugly side to you, Uther Pendragon. I never thought I’d see that out of you.”

He looked away for a moment, barely masking his indignation. Yet then, his features softened ever so slightly. “You’re right. I know my temper can be…unpredictable…”

“How about outright rude?”

“Yes, sometimes.”

She paused. “And occasionally abusive?”

“Abusive?” he exclaimed, making her jump. Uther took a deep, slow breath and shut his eyes. “I do not wish to seem…abusive. I am sorry if you took it that way. I know that I take a hard line at times, but that’s my job. My responsibilities are too great for me to be soft.”

“Even towards your own son?”

Uther took in a sharp breath. “Yes, Rowena, even towards Arthur. He will one day share the same responsibility as I. I raised Arthur with great privilege, to be sure, but I also raised him to know that he is not a god to be worshipped. Being king means making very hard choices.”

She took his hands in hers. “Do you regret any choices you made in the past?”

“Some. When you’re king, you know instinctively that you hold the power of life and death over thousands of people.”

“And you’ve taken many lives.”

“I have, but I have never killed capriciously or unfairly. Killing is sometimes unavoidable, even if it is regrettable.”

Rowena leaned forward, looking into his green eyes. “You wouldn’t really have Arthur flogged, would you?”

“Believe it or not, Rowena, it might actually make people respect him more. Arthur will show that he is man enough to take his punishment.”

“And you’d be satisfied with that? You’d move on from there?”

Uther looked away for a moment, then turned towards her again. Rowena felt her heart race as he drew closer, and when his lips touched hers, she found she couldn’t resist him. His touch was a little coarse, a little clumsy, yet enchanting all the same. As their kisses intensified, Rowena knew that now, the time had come.

Seizing the opportunity, Rowena looked into his eyes, whispering, “Finite incantatum.” As before, a soft spark of power left her body and entered his, and as before, Uther pulled away slightly, looking slightly befuddled.

“You said those words again,” he said.

“I did,” she replied.

Uther pulled away again. “What does it mean?”

Rowena thought a moment, fearing he might have figured something out or worse, that Salazar might have told him what those words meant. Then again, why would Uther even mention it to Salazar? To him, Salazar was another knight, not a wise old sage like Gaius. She thought quickly.

“It means, roughly speaking, _you enchant me infinitely_.” Rowena smiled warmly, hoping desperately that he believed her. And when he kissed her again, more passionately this time, she allowed a little moan of relief to escape her lips. 

As the sun rose in the sky, erasing the night’s chill with its warm rays, it suddenly occurred to Rowena that she had better get some of Godric’s potion into the king before he returned to the palace. Managing to pull herself away from his strong grip and his roving hands, she took out two goblets, filling them both with water.

“What are you doing over there?” he asked.

“Serving my king,” she replied silkily. Rowena took out the bottle with the dragon and poured a few drops of the potion into Uther’s goblet, swirling it about before handing it to him. “All this…activity makes a girl thirsty,” she said.

They clinked their goblets together, then drank down the contents. Refreshed, Uther stood up, straightening his shirt. He picked up his elegant black jacket from the floor and put it back on, then gathered Rowena in his arms and kissed her again.

“This has been lovely,” he whispered in her ear.

By the time Uther left her house, Rowena thought she might collapse from exhaustion. Being out all night with Merlin and Godric was exhausting enough, but added to that was four long walks and a very long…session with the king. So when a knock came at the door once again, Rowena was half tempted to hex whoever was on the other side.

But that would be foolish.

Rowena threw open the door, only to find a tearful Gwen on the other side. She ushered her inside and shut the door tightly.

“I saw Arthur this morning,” Gwen confided. “I took him some food.”

“How is the prince?”

“Very…ill. Well, not physically ill, but…beaten down. I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s merely a shadow of his true self.”

Rowena gave Gwen’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “My hope is that this will be resolved soon.”

Gwen nodded. “They’re giving Arthur another hearing later today. I’m scared for him.”

“Me, too.”

“Was that the king I saw leaving this morning?”

Rowena blushed. “Gwen, how many people believe those rumours?”

Gwen shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I think most aren’t even aware of the rumours. The court is, and the knights and servants.”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “Well if the servants know…no offence, Gwen. I am determined that Arthur be completely exonerated of these charges.”

“Sir Berwyn isn’t the only knight accusing Arthur of saying those things, and he swears on his honour as a knight of Camelot that he speaks the truth!”

“We both know that Arthur is innocent! I know he’s not thrilled with my relationship with his father, but he wouldn’t lash out like that, not against Uther and not against me! But I know very well who would.”

“Salazar?”

Rowena nodded.

“But how can he be defeated if he’s a sorcerer?” Gwen asked despondently.

“Just trust in Arthur, Gwen. If all goes as I hope, then he should be free.”

* * * * *

“A candlestick?” Merlin looked more than a bit doubtful, and a little bit tentative.

“It’s perfect! I’ll apparate you into his room, leave you on his table and when you’ve found some concrete evidence of him being a Slytherin, then just get out of his room before he knows anything.”

They sat around the table in Gaius’ rooms, strategising and coming to some final decisions as fast as they could. 

Merlin grimaced at the thought of apparation. “And if that appration makes me sick? Won’t it be odd to see a sick candlestick?”

“You’ll be fine,” Rowena replied. “And perhaps I won’t have to apparate you in there after all. I’ll try to enter the room the old fashioned way. Oh, and whilst we’re in there, we can put some Veritaserum into his water goblet!”

“I thought I was supposed to give it to him,” Merlin reminded her.

“True. When do you think you should, then?”

Merlin thought a moment. “Well, the hearing is in the late afternoon, after training is over. I…could probably put it in his flask of water. He usually drinks down the whole thing after training.”

“I like that,” Rowena replied. “And then you could return to his rooms with him to get him ready for the hearing. Give him more Veritaserum then and make sure he gets to the hearing directly. Any delay won’t work.”

“Should we just give it all?”

“That would be a very bad idea,” Rowena replied. “If it wears off, we’ll need to get more into him.”

Merlin furrowed his brow. “But how would we do that in the middle of the court?”

“Have water prepared for him.” Rowena conjured a small phial, into which she poured a good amount of the potion. Corking it tightly, she handed it to Merlin, who stowed it away in his trouser pocket.

“And if Uther should want a drink?”

Rowena smirked at the prospect. “Let his own servant take care of it. Don’t let anyone else touch that water, no matter what.”

With that, Merlin uttered a brief spell, and before Rowena’s astonished eyes, took the shape of a long, pewter candlestick. Rowena picked it up, and, with the bottle of Veritaserum stowed safely in her little bag, made her way to Salazar’s rooms, ready for a fight. She prayed silently as she went, that the truth would prevail and all wrongs would be set right.

Salazar, however, was not alone in his rooms that morning. A smug and very satisfied Morgana, in fact, answered the door—Rowena had to think quickly, as what she had to say was not something she wanted Morgana to hear.

“My lady,” Rowena said, giving Morgana a slight curtsey.

“Rowena,” Morgana replied stiffly, curtseying back.

“His majesty wanted to be sure that Lord Salazar had sufficient light in his rooms. Is he here?”

“He’s just getting out of bed,” Morgana replied. “Why would Uther care about lighting all of a sudden?”

“You’ll have to ask the king, I’m afraid. We both thought Lord Salazar would like this candlestick.”

Morgana motioned for Rowena to enter, just as Salazar, draped only in a towel, sauntered into the sitting room. 

“My lady,” he said, giving her a slight bow. “How is it you are on this side of the castle? I thought Uther’s rooms were in a different wing.”

Morgana giggled, but Rowena scowled. “Very funny, Salazar,” Rowena said sourly. “Uther and I wanted you to have this candlestick.”

He raised a rakish eyebrow and grinned. “You and Uther? Goodness, it seems as if Arthur’s rumours are true!”

“You mean that fantasy you conjured up?” she asked, starting to lose her calm.

Salazar strode straight to Rowena, standing so close she could smell the soap from his bath. “I’ve been telling the lady Morgana about you, you know. A little past history between your father and mine. Then again, your father did manage to slink away like a pathetic coward.”

Morgana laughed at that, but Rowena was livid.

“Who is your father?” Rowena asked angrily.

Salazar smirked. “Oh, I think you know damn well who he is, just as I know who yours is.”

“At least my father loved me enough to protect me from harm, unlike yours,” Rowena shot back.

“Don’t you DARE talk about my father!” Salazar hissed, his face twisted in rage. “He gave his life for our kind, but you…you sully your people like a muggle slag!”

That was it. Rowena couldn’t listen any longer. In a fury, she drew her hand back and smashed him in the face, but like lightening, Salazar slapped her—Morgana shrieked with fright.

“Stop it, Salazar!” she cried. “Rowena, get out of here now!”

Putting a shaking hand on her jaw, where Salazar had hit her, Rowena rushed out of the room—it was all up to Merlin now.


	13. The Trial of Arthur Pendragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“These proceedings will come to order,” Uther declared with a motion of his hand. At that, the entire room fell silent. “This hearing is to ascertain the guilt or innocence of Prince Arthur Pendragon, who has been accused by Sir Berwyn of slandering myself and the Lady Rowena.”_
> 
> _Sir Berwyn stepped forward, his face appearing somewhat recovered from the beating he had taken. Uther glared at the trembling, fresh-faced knight, and as a manacled, dingy Arthur was led into court, Uther did not take his eyes from Sir Berwyn. The guards shoved Arthur before his father, and it was only then that Uther reacted._
> 
> _“Do NOT shove him like a goat!” Uther snapped at the guard._
> 
> _Rowena suddenly felt a little hope, though the hearings had only just started. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but Uther silenced him with a deadly glower. Rowena supposed Arthur knew when not to try his father’s patience. Collecting himself, Uther continued the proceedings._

Rowena vaguely pondered whether to heal the growing bruise on her face from where Salazar stuck her, or to use it to her advantage. Knowing that Uther was no longer under the Imperius curse, Rowena decided that perhaps she should let the bruise remain. After all, she reasoned, any man who would strike a woman couldn’t be considered honorable or trustworthy. Then again, Uther himself had many women executed—many witches, that is. Still, she knew he had strong feelings for her and decided to make the most of it.

Then again, she thought as she wandered through the palace in search of Uther, Salazar would be under Veritaserum, and he would thus be forced to relate all of his conversation with Rowena, in particular, about his father and hers. If the name Ravenclaw came up, Rowena suddenly realised, it would be all over, and though she could easily apparate away to safety, Merlin could not. Finding an empty niche, a distressed Rowena apparated once again to Hogwarts, eager to seek some wisdom from Godric.

Godric was horrified by the state of her face the moment he laid eyes on her.

“Uther?”

“Salazar.”

“Bastard.” He pressed his wand to her bruised jaw and uttered a quick spell—Rowena felt a surge of warmth, and soon, all pain was gone. Godric grinned. “There. You look much better.”

“Thanks for that, Godric,” she said gratefully. “I thought of letting it stay, but…”

“Bad idea.”

“Exactly. If only I weren’t a Ravenclaw.”

Together, they went to the Great Hall, where the tiny servants once again laid out a magnificent feast for them—roasted meats, potatoes, fresh vegetables, bottles of fine wine and excellent mead. Rowena ate in silence, but Godric looked concerned.

“Rowena,” he started. “Have you considered what we discussed last night?”

“You mean starting over?”

“Frankly, I think you’re wasting your talents in Camelot. You need to be with your own kind, and if we can get this thing started, you’ll be at the very centre of a revolution!”

“I never knew you were so anti-muggle, Godric.”

He scowled. “Don’t be indulgent, Rowena. You know damn well I’m not. All I’ve thought about today is how much we can change things for wizardkind. Hogsmeade is already a thriving town, and all magical.” Godric paused. “I’ve even had some ideas for Hogwarts.”

“Public housing?”

“Think of how many wizard children grow up, with no place to learn to develop their gifts. Think of all those children who have to live in hiding and whose parents have no opportunity to teach them a thing about magic for fear of…of Uther Pendragon and those like him.”

“You mean you want to turn Hogwarts into a school?” Rowena asked. Actually, she sort of liked the idea. “Only what about the parents? I doubt they’d be eager to send their children to the chilly north, alone.”

“Nonsense,” Godric said dismissively. “Parents send their children off all the time! And we could make this place safe! We could use charms to hide the whole castle so the muggles couldn’t find us!”

“It sounds wonderful, Godric! But…do you think it’s possible? How would we even find wizard children?”

“You know there are ways,” he pointed out. “It’s something we can work out, but…I really think that the time has come for us to at least discuss it seriously!”

“What does your friend, Helga, think of it?”

“She’s all for it!” Godric replied eagerly.

“What about her independence?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m just asking a lot of questions. What about Salazar?”

Godric paused. “I think he should be here, with us.”

“And not executed? He tried to destroy a whole kingdom!” Rowena pointed out.

“And if his family hadn’t been destroyed by Uther…”

“Are you being a moral relativist?”

“No,” Godric protested. “I just believe that a wizard shouldn’t die like that. He’s lost everything he ever knew, Rowena! He deserves a chance to make some good of his life, to use his magic for a greater purpose!”

Rowena scowled. “I think you’re dreaming, Godric.” She sighed. “But…alright then. We can give him a chance. But if he blows it?”

“Then he’s on his own. Case closed.”

“Will you help, then?”

“Consider it done.”

* * * * *

The moment Rowena arrived back in Camelot, she rushed straight to Gaius’ rooms to see whether Merlin had discovered any information on Salazar. Unfortunately, Gaius was on rounds, visiting patients, and Merlin was at knights’ training, seeing to things. She had to hope that he had whatever they needed hidden in his pockets so they would be ready to go at Arthur’s hearing.

In the meantime, Rowena thought it would be a good idea to mend things with Morgana—after all, it was likely that Morgana was under Salazar’s spell as well, and in fact, Rowena thought that she should do to Morgana what she had done to Uther. With that hopeful thought, Rowena rushed to Morgana’s rooms, and fortunately found her there, sitting at her dressing table whilst Gwen brushed her long black hair.

Rowena gave her a polite curtsey, but Morgana did not even turn to face her. Giving Gwen a slight nod, Rowena approached.

 

“I’ll finish this, Gwen.” She took the jeweled brush from Gwen’s hand and motioned for her to leave them in peace.

Morgana snarled. “Oh yes, that’s right. You used to be a servant.”

“And thanks to you, that is no longer the case.” Rowena brushed Morgana’s hair. “Would you like me to put it up for you? How about a nice twist? And I’ll adorn it with these green hairpins?”

“I’m wearing amber today,” Morgana replied, her voice almost a drone.

“Green and amber are a beautiful combination,” Rowena said, carefully and artfully creating an intricate twist in Morgana’s hair. Fastening the style with two, three, five pins, Rowena stood back and admired her work. “See? It’s lovely.”

Morgana pursed her lips momentarily, but as she admired Rowena’s work, her features warmed a bit.

“Morgana, would you mind if I tried something on you? Something…magical?”

Morgana smiled lightly. “You know, Rowena, Salazar is going to rule Camelot soon. Once he conquers the Pendragons, Camelot will be ours and all of us will be free!”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Rowena replied, slightly irritated. She pulled her wand out of her bag, pointing it at the door. “Colloportus!” At that, the lock clicked tight. “We don’t want a muggle like Gwen finding out about us, right?”

Morgana giggled. “So what is it you wanted to do?”

“Now don’t get nervous,” Rowena said, pointing her wand at Morgana. Looking directly into Morgana’s placid eyes, Rowena said, “Finite incantatum!” As with Uther, a spark of power left her own body, now entering Morgana’s.

Morgana suddenly looked at her, troubled and shaken. “What was that?”

“Remember when you were so hysterical and I helped you? It was the same thing.”

“No, this is different!” Morgana insisted.

“It’s not.”

“It is! I don’t feel the same at all!”

Rowena sat on the edge of Morgana’s bed, leaning forward. “Do you feel better or worse?”

“I…I don’t know. I’ve been feeling all this…anger these days and…” But Morgana stopped, her eyes flooded with tears. “What have I done?”

Rowena had a feeling she knew what Morgana was thinking, but she allowed Morgana to say it.

“Salazar!” Morgana exclaimed. “He and I…oh, Rowena, what have I done?”

“He had you under a spell.”

“But everyone knows that we…oh no!” Morgana dissolved into fierce tears, but Rowena stayed at a slight distance. “What must people think of me?” Morgana wailed.

“When people realise what Salazar is, Morgana, I think they will forgive you.”

Morgana looked up. “Does this mean that Arthur is innocent?”

“Yes, he is.”

“I feel so stupid, Rowena. I’ve been so horrible to you, and you’re my friend! I didn’t even care when he hit you!”

“Look, Morgana, we must not speak of that. That whole conversation could get me into a lot of trouble.”

“But surely Uther would be outraged to know you had been mistreated!”

“Yes, but if he were to learn of the subject of that conversation…”

Morgana understood. “Your father…Lorcan Ravenclaw…yes, I know of him.”

“He was the best of men.”

“He was an alchemist,” Morgana pointed out.

“He was also a businessman. He never caused trouble with his magic, regardless of what Salazar might have said.”

“But if he did business with dark wizards, doesn’t that compromise his reputation?”

Rowena stiffened her spine. “Whatever his dealings were with Salazar’s family, they were not to do with dark magic. I know my own father, Morgana!”

Morgana nodded. “I believe you. But you’re right. Uther would never understand, no matter how much he loves you. He hates magic more than he loves anyone, including Arthur.”

Rowena frowned. “I hope you’re wrong. Morgana, I want you to stay away from Arthur’s hearing today.”

“I can’t do that! I’m expected there!”

“We can’t take the risk that Salazar could Imperius you again!” But Rowena paused, reaching into her bag to grab Godric’s potion. “Then again, maybe it’ll be alright.”

* * * * *

A red-faced, worn out Merlin found Rowena outside the Great Hall, just minutes before Arthur’s hearing. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a very private niche, then reached into his pocket and produced two scrolls.

“Evidence!” he whispered. “This one is a letter he received from another wizard, and it’s addressed to Salazar Slytherin!”

“That’s excellent!” Rowena uttered excitedly. “What’s the other one?”

“A conspiracy,” Merlin replied. “It’s in the language of the old religion, but I understand it. Basically, it’s a plot to get Uther to execute Arthur and to be destroyed from within so that he would become so weak that Salazar would be able to turn him into a servant. He also wishes to Imperius all of Camelot so that they will do his bidding and will treat Uther with contempt and violence.”

“So he doesn’t want to kill Uther?” That shocked Rowena in a way, but then again, she realised that a lifetime of subjugation would be far sweeter revenge than mere murder. She wondered whether Godric knew what he was getting himself into by allowing Salazar’s presence at Hogwarts.

“Merlin, I’ll return these to his rooms, and you go on into the Great Hall for the hearing,” she said.

“But we need those at the hearing!”

“Taken from a servant, Uther could be convinced that you created these to slander Salazar, or that you had somehow stolen them, or that these are your papers, not his.”

Merlin nodded, chastened. “Right. But you’ll be at the hearing, won’t you?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” 

With that, Rowena disapparated with a little pop, ending up in an empty niche just around the corner from Salazar’s rooms. Glancing around to see whether she was alone, Rowena knocked softly at Salazar’s door.

“Hello?” she called quietly. No answer, to her relief. Palm facing the lock, Rowena whispered, “Alohomora!” making the lock click open. She quickly entered and searched for anyone who might be there, but finding herself alone, set the parchments on the table. Rowena then pulled out her wand waving it in small circles over both parchments, incanting, “Subsisto.”

Satisfied with her work, she put her wand away and apparated out of the room, back to the niche near the Great Hall. A knight in all his regalia passed her by at the exact same time, so Rowena could only hope he didn’t see her. Steeling herself for what could potentially be a very ugly, extremely dangerous scene, she marched into the Great Hall, behind the knight, ready for the fight of her life.

Uther motioned for Rowena to come forward and sit in the chair at his right hand, whilst Morgana sat at his left, looking angry and embarrassed and nervous. Uther gave Rowena’s hand an affectionate pat, then motioned for the court to come to order. No sign of Arthur, though Rowena spotted Merlin standing at a side table filled with jugs of water and empty goblets, alongside a silver platter of fresh fruits and cheeses. Salazar was the last to enter, striding to the front of the long hall to stand with his fellow knights. Morgana threw him a sharp glare, which he ignored.

Rowena looked into his angry, dark eyes, whispering slightly, “Ego sitis.”

“These proceedings will come to order,” Uther declared with a motion of his hand. At that, the entire room fell silent. “This hearing is to ascertain the guilt or innocence of Prince Arthur Pendragon, who has been accused by Sir Berwyn of slandering myself and the Lady Rowena.”

Sir Berwyn stepped forward, his face appearing somewhat recovered from the beating he had taken. Uther glared at the trembling, fresh-faced knight, and as a manacled, dingy Arthur was led into court, Uther did not take his eyes from Sir Berwyn. The guards shoved Arthur before his father, and it was only then that Uther reacted.

“Do NOT shove him like a goat!” Uther snapped at the guard. 

Rowena suddenly felt a little hope, though the hearings had only just started. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but Uther silenced him with a deadly glower. Rowena supposed Arthur knew when not to try his father’s patience. Collecting himself, Uther continued the proceedings.

“Sir Berwyn, do you stand by the story you told earlier, or do you wish to change your testimony?” Uther asked stiffly.

“Sire, I am sorry, but I cannot tell a lie,” Sir Berwyn replied, trying desperately to sound strong. “I know what I heard, and I know it was said by…the prince.”

Too weakened to struggle against the guards, Arthur still strove to speak in his defence. “Your majesty,” he said plainly. “Please…allow me to renew my plea of innocence.”

For a moment, Rowena thought Uther might shout at Arthur again. Uther took in a deep breath, and then nodded. “Then plead your case.”

“It is my belief that Sir Berwyn does in fact speak honestly,” Arthur argued. “He is a worthy man and does not lie.”

“Then you do confess?” Salazar piped up.

“You will NOT interrupt, knight!” Uther lashed out. A slightly cowed Salazar bowed his head obsequiously and threw Arthur a sneer, but then he coughed. Rowena suppressed a smirk as Salazar motioned for Merlin to bring him a goblet of water. Catching Arthur’s eye, Rowena whispered softly, “Suus nomen est Slytherin.”

“I do not confess,” Arthur replied. “It is my belief that a false belief has been implanted in Sir Berwyn’s mind, your majesty. I believe that he has been unwittingly enchanted by a sorcerer who wishes to destroy my reputation and yours.”

Uther narrowed his eyes at Arthur. “And who is this sorcerer?”

“Salazar…Slytherin,” Arthur answered promptly, though his features were covered with confusion for a moment.

Uther rose from his chair, looking dangerously at Salazar. “Did you say, Slytherin?”

“Yes, Father…your majesty,” Arthur replied.

“That’s impossible!” Uther seethed. “The Slytherins were wiped out in the Purge! I saw to them myself because of their evil!”

“I am not mistaken, your majesty,” Arthur insisted.

“Excuse me, sire,” Rowena intervened. “There is evidence. One of the servants approached me earlier today, after cleaning Lord Salazar’s rooms. He found some scrolls which reveal not only his true identity but…I’m afraid what his purpose is here in Camelot.”

To Rowena’s amazement and disappointment, Uther did not ask Salazar to say a word or defend himself or anything else.

“Who is this servant?” Uther demanded.

“Merlin, sire,” Rowena replied. “By your own orders, he has been seeing to Lord Salazar’s needs since the prince has been detained.”

Uther wasted no time. “Very well, then. Merlin, do you have these pieces of evidence?”

Merlin nervously approached the king, steeling himself. “I…left the scrolls where I found them, sire. In Lord Salazar’s rooms. I didn’t want you to think I had…falsified them.”

“You will show us these scrolls, then, in Lord Salazar’s rooms.” Turning to Salazar, Uther motioned for him to lead the way. “After you, Lord Salazar.”

Without a word, Salazar marched out of the Great Hall, leading the entire court, Rowena included, straight to his rooms. Merlin walked at Rowena’s side, fretting as they went up stairs, around corners, down corridors until at last, they arrived at Salazar’s door. Merlin gulped, but Rowena only smiled, especially at the sight of Salazar’s lips moving, uttering what she knew was an incantation.

She hoped it was the wrong one.


	14. What to do with Salazar?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With Salazar now in jail, awaiting execution, Rowena realises that perhaps that is not the fate he deserves. But what to do with a man who caused so much trouble for everyone in Camelot? Perhaps Godric can help find a solution..._

There they were, like two paper traitors, staring up at a furious Uther, who read through the first. At the second, however, he stopped.

“What language is this?” he asked. “Gaius, you know languages. What does this say?”

Gaius approached, bowed slightly at Uther, then read over the scroll, his frown deepening the farther he read. “It is a conspiracy, your majesty,” Gaius said. “I’m afraid it confirms precisely what the prince has told you.”

Outraged, Uther turned on Salazar. “So you are of the Slytherin clan?”

Unable to fight against the large dose of Veritaserum given him by Merlin, Salazar could only spit out a reluctant “yes.” But… “But that little slag you’re screwing is a witch!”

Uther’s hand flew right to the hilt of his sword, as did those of half the knights in the room. Merlin, Gaius and Arthur clenched their fists, ready to bash his face in.

“You will apologise!” Uther commanded. “Or you will die where you stand!”

“She is a witch!” Salazar insisted angrily. Naturally, under Veritaserum, he could only speak the truth, but Rowena had other plans. “She is Rowena Ravenclaw!”

Uther made a face. “Ravenclaw? You mean the notorious alchemist, Lorcan Ravenclaw?”

“She’s his daughter!” Salazar said triumphantly.

Uther looked at Rowena, sizing her up curiously. Merlin froze, terrified that this was it for Rowena. But Rowena looked calmly into Uther’s insistent stare, picturing her father, dead by an arrow to the chest…

Uther chuckled. “You think I am a fool, sorcerer?” he asked Salazar.

“I think you are a great many things, Uther Pendragon,” Salazar hissed.

“I killed Lorcan Ravenclaw myself, you idiot! Ten years before the Purge!”

The room exploded in shouts of anger and outrage as one set of guards seized and bound Salazar and another set of guards freed Arthur’s bruised, manacled hands. He rubbed his aching, cut up wrists painfully, relishing the sight of his accuser being arrested and led by Uther’s orders, to the cells. With another motion of his hand, Uther ordered the court to return to the Great Hall, where they reassembled and continued the hearing. Last to arrive was a chained up Salazar, whom the guards threw at Uther’s feet.

Uther handed down Salazar’s sentence, his voice still and icy. “Salazar Slytherin, you are found guilty not only of sorcery, but more grievously, of conspiracy, treason and sedition. Tomorrow morning you will be publically flogged, and the following morning, you will be burned at the stake.” Turning to the guards, Uther said, “Take him to the darkest, coldest cell and do not give him food or drink.”

Rowena’s blood ran cold as she watched Salazar taken away, still shouting accusations against her. All she could think of was what Godric had said to her. It enraged her that she should feel even the slightest sympathy towards Salazar, considering all the trouble and pain he had caused, yet she found that she couldn’t help herself. A tear of sorrow and regret fell down her cheek, but she did not whisk it away.

“Are you alright?” Uther whispered in her ear.

Rowena nodded furtively, but it was a lie. She was far from alright, but hadn’t the voice to say a word.

Uther put a fatherly hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Arthur, I should like to apologise to you….”

“Father, it’s not necessary,” Arthur said.

“No, son, it is necessary. Many of us were under Salazar’s spell, but you remained pure and strong and true to your values. My only regret is that I did not see what was happening.”

Arthur reddened slightly. “I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself, Father.”

Uther gave Arthur a rough pat on the arm, then turned to Merlin. “You did a great service, Merlin, and I wish to give you my most sincere thanks,” Uther said grandly. “You took a great risk at exposing the sorcerer for what he was, and I, along with all of Camelot, are greatly in your debt.”

“Thank you, sire,” Merlin replied.

“And as a reward, Merlin, I am giving you two whole days off,” Uther went on. “Now that things can return to normal, I want you to be fully rested and ready to take up your duties once again as my son’s servant.”

Merlin’s face fell, though he tried to keep a humble smile. Gaius snorted. Arthur looked somewhat disappointed, but he decided to take it all in stride.

“It’s true, Father,” he conceded. “After all, once Merlin comes back the day after tomorrow, I’ve got plenty for him to do. My armour needs polishing, my bed needs changing, my clothes need laundering, my chair needs mending, my floor needs sweeping, and I could use a haircut and a massage, and then, my dogs need some attention. I think the bitch has some sort of intestinal ailment, so that needs a bit of cleaning up, oh, and my quills need sharpening.”

Rowena suppressed a giggle.

“Is that all, sire?” Merlin asked, hoping Arthur was joking.

Arthur thought a moment. “Yes, Merlin. Surely you can manage it? Apparently you’re more competent than you look.”

Gaius snorted again, but Merlin could only stand there, stricken.

* * * * *

The moon was full that night, the sky bright and scattered with twinkling stars. As Rowena wandered down the long path out of the city, heading towards the dark privacy of the woods, she breathed deeply, reveling in the pure sweetness of the chilly air. It had been some time since she was able to take one of her usual nighttime excursions, and Rowena found it difficult to contain her excitement at being able to connect with the elements once again.

A loud CRACK! made her jump, but Rowena quickly recovered her composure.

“Godric?” she called quietly. “Is that you?”

His wild red hair slightly rumpled, Godric bounded out of the thicket just ahead of Rowena, rubbing his elbow.

“Dammit! I nearly splinched myself!” he swore.

Rowena rolled her eyes. “You really need to practice more. Honestly, Godric.”

Godric gave her a little kiss on the cheek and looked her up and down. “You look good. Rested.”

“You look dreadful.”

“Lots of town meetings these days in Hogsmeade,” Godric confessed. “People are excited by our plans, but we’re not always in agreement as to the particulars.”

“No wonder you splinched yourself.”

“I didn’t!” he protested. “I almost did. So, where’s the snake?”

“In jail. I guess he can’t apparate after all. His talent seems to be causing trouble.” 

They walked at a rapid pace back towards Camelot, eager to get straight to Salazar before sunrise. Neither was sure that Salazar would accept Godric’s offer, but they both knew that, as wizards, he deserved a chance to redeem himself.

“How’s the king?” Godric asked.

“Fine. Back to normal.”

“Oh? Back to being a tyrant?”

“Back to being a king.”

Godric laughed. “Are all kings tyrants?”

“You know, I’ve thought about it a little, and in a strange way, I sort of see his point.”

“You think he’s justified in persecuting witches and wizards?” Godric exclaimed.

“No, of course not! No one deserves to be persecuted,” Rowena shot back defencively. “But think on it for a moment. If all he’s ever known are the bad sorts of witches and wizards and never the good ones, then why should he ever have a good or even a neutral opinion of magic?”

Godric frowned. “I think you’re too close to him, Rowena. You’re losing your perspective.”

“Godric, you’ve never lived among muggles before! Your entire life has been spent only amongst our own kind, so you don’t understand why muggles are afraid of magic! Uther has only ever known wizards like the Slytherins and the sorceresses Nimueh and Morgeuse! If the only muggles I knew were violent and immoral and horrible, I’d hate them, too!”

Godric sighed. “I suppose.” He stopped in his tracks. “You know you’re going to have to leave him.”

Rowena nodded. “I know.”

“Will you be able to?”

Rowena didn’t reply.

“Rowena! Will you be able to leave Uther?”

She nodded, though heart broke.

Godric sensed her distress and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Look, Rowena, I’ll talk to him, after we’ve got Salazar sorted out. Just leave Uther Pendragon to me.”

“No, Godric! I have to do this myself!”

“You’ll have to lie to him. Can you do that?”

“I…”

“Rowena, honey, I will take care of this. It’ll be fine.”

All Rowena could hope was that Godric was right. Naturally, she was excited with this new project of building up a whole wizarding society. She knew instinctively that this was the right thing to do, and not just for the sake of other witches and wizards. Rowena needed this for herself, to find herself again, to live honestly and openly as a witch, which was impossible in Camelot and especially as Uther’s mistress. She had to go, no matter how much it hurt.

“I feel so stupid, Godric,” she admitted. “I let myself get too close when I should have kept a distance.”

“It was a crisis situation, Rowena. He was under a spell. If you hadn’t acted, Salazar might have made things much worse.”

“But after the spell was lifted, I kept up the affair.”

Godric looked at the stars for a moment. “I’m sorry, Rowena. I think I’ve too unfair towards you. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

She forced a smile. “I think you and Merlin helped me put my head back on straight.”

Godric gasped. “Maybe Merlin should join us! Can you imagine? A wizard with his strength, forming a whole society? Who needs Camelot when we can have our own world?”

Rowena shrugged. “I’m not sure of that, Godric. Merlin is extremely devoted to Arthur. I think his role in the muggle world is as important as ours is in our own world…but maybe he could visit!”

* * * * *

Together, Godric and Rowena apparated into a dark, very narrow corridor in the dungeons. To their disappointment, two armed guards stood outside Salazar’s cell, ready to strike. Godric put a finger to his lips.

“I’ll take care of this,” he mouthed silently. Creeping forward, he pulled out his wand and in soft circles, pointed it at the guards. “Slepan,” he whispered, continuing to move his wand in circles until one, then the other guard yawned, rubbed their eyes, set down their weapons and laid down on the stone floor, fast asleep.

Rowena and Godric quickly apparated directly into Salazar’s cell, finding him standing at the narrow window, looking out at the full moon. Salazar did not move a muscle, despite the sudden intrusion.

“What do you want, Rowena?” he asked, not looking at her. “Feeling the sting of guilt, are we? Do you regret betraying yet another wizard?”

“We’re not here to argue, Salazar,” Godric said.

Salazar whipped around, taken aback by Godric’s presence. “Who the hell are you?”

“I am Godric Gryffindor, the Lady Rowena’s cousin.”

Salazar narrowed his dark eyes at Godric. “Gryffindor? I know that name.”

“And I am familiar with the name Slytherin. I believe one of your ancestors put a curse on one of my ancestors.”

“Possibly,” Salazar conceded. “Here to take your revenge, then?”

“I do not engage in such pettiness,” Godric replied coolly. “I believe in progress, not in living in the past.”

“And I suppose you lost no one in the Great Purge?”

“I was affected by it in a different way, Salazar,” Godric replied. “Rowena and I are here to make you an offer, and if you accept it, we will get you out of here and far away tonight.”

Salazar’s eyes widened—he looked…impressed, though he managed to keep up his cynical guard. “Well, what is this offer?”

“Rowena, myself and a dear friend of mine, Helga Hufflepuff, are making plans to create the foundation of an entirely magical society. No muggles, no Camelot, no Pendragons, and no revenge plots.”

Salazar folded his arms and sniggered. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather die for my family’s memory.”

“You’re dying as an enemy of the state,” Rowena reminded him. “You’re no martyr, Salazar, no matter what you may believe.”

“This from Uther’s whore!” Salazar snapped.

“Salazar, we did not come here to engage in ridiculous name-calling!” Rowena snapped back. “And for the record, I am still a maiden!”

“Only just,” Salazar grumbled.

“You know, Salazar,” Godric said, eager to get on with it, “you strike me as a brilliant young man, and I know you have great ambition. Though I can’t exactly agree with what you did here in Camelot, I have to admit that your plot was ingenious!”

Rowena threw him a brief glare, but Godric went on.

“You are a man of action, Salazar,” Godric pointed out, “and you’re not afraid to take a risk. I like that in you. We need someone like you to form this new society.”

Salazar didn’t look too convinced. “What’s in it for me?” he asked.

“Prestige,” Godric replied. “A certain amount of power, the ability to control how this society is set up.”

“Go on,” Salazar said. His demeanour softened somewhat, to Rowena’s relief.

“Part of what we want to do is to found a school of magic,” Godric explained. “I want to convert my entire estate at Hogwarts for this purpose.”

“What sort of place is Hogwarts? A country house?”

Godric chuckled, but Rowena replied. “Not quite. It is a palace more impressive even than Camelot.”

“It’s been in the family for generations,” Godric added. “There are so many layers and unexplored chambers at Hogwarts that I believe it would take several lifetimes to unearth all its secrets. Hogwarts has been a nexus of extremely potent magic for a very long time, and it is the perfect place for such a school.”

“So wait,” Salazar said. “Are you setting up a society or a school? I don’t want to end up as a schoolmaster.”

“The school is the foundation of the society,” Godric explained. “Witch and wizard children learn magic at Hogwarts and by the time they leave the school, they are ready to take on life as adults.”

“These are the details we still need to discuss,” Rowena said. “Surely if we are to set up a society, we’ll need to develop our own laws, rules, regulations and so on.”

“And all far away from muggles,” Godric reminded him. “It’s a chance for all of us to start over and leave the ugliness of the Purge far behind us.”

Salazar paused. “And what I did here…you won’t hold it against me? You won’t imprison me?”

“If you behave yourself,” Godric admitted, “then no. But don’t think of yourself as some conquering hero. If muggles are ever to trust magic again, then we must behave beyond reproach. Rowena reminded me of something very important. Just as we hold muggles accountable for their behaviour towards wizardkind, we must hold ourselves accountable for how magic is portrayed.”

Salazar pursed his lips, thinking hard. “I…I don’t know if I can keep to that,” he said, for the first time dejected. “What Uther did to my family is something I don’t think I can ever forgive.”

“You don’t have to forgive him,” Rowena said. “But you don’t have to let your anger rule you. And besides, this is a way of defying Uther.”

Salazar laughed at that. “And is that what you want? To defy the man you…”

“Stop it, Salazar!” Godric barked. “Rowena is making an excellent point. Uther seeks to rid the world of magic, but we seek to build up the world of magic.”

Salazar nodded, then grinned wickedly. “I like that,” he said. He put out his hand. “Well, Gryffindor, you’ve got yourself a partner in crime.”


	15. The Golden Coach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Uther finished giving his orders and dismissed them all, but Rowena stayed put, knowing exactly what would happen in the next ten minutes…sort of. He turned towards her, still cross. Uther motioned for her to approach, but just then, another knight, Sir Corwyn, rushed in, his rosy face bemused._
> 
> _“Yes?” Uther said._
> 
> _“Sire, there’s a…well, there’s a…”_
> 
> _“Yes?” Uther said more forcefully._
> 
> _“…a golden coach, the most splendid carriage I have ever beheld in my entire life.”_
> 
> _Rowena giggled again. Leave it to Godric, she thought, to make such an ostentatious entry._

Whilst Godric apparated Salazar back to Hogwarts, Rowena apparated herself to a dark alley not far from her house, confident that she hadn’t been seen, then rushed home. Safe inside, doors locked, Rowena threw herself onto her bed, her mind full and busy. 

Rowena knew that Godric and Salazar would arrive safely and that her cousin would waste no time getting Salazar settled in a nice suite somewhere in that massive castle. But despite what she and Godric had said to Salazar in the jail cell, Rowena worried that Salazar might not be able to put the past behind him. She had learned to tolerate muggles and even to…love them, including Uther. Salazar, on the other hand, held only hatred for muggles, and perhaps with good reason. Her stomach ached.

Finally able to drift off to an uncertain sleep, peopled with troubling dreams of white rooms and strange foods and burning torches, the sound of bells ringing caught her ear, rippling its way into her mind’s eye. She rolled over in her soft bed and tried to go back to sleep, but the bells continued to ring, louder and louder.

Rowena sat up. They were real! 

“The alarm,” she whispered. “They know he’s gone.”

She decided to remain in bed, however, though she could hear the rush of knights and guards and horses outside her window. A troubled murmur rose in volume, its tremor drifting through the early morning air. People sensed disaster. They felt some great tragedy had occurred. There would be talk, venom, violence. Rowena pulled the duvet up around her shoulders and tried to clear her mind.

In a way, she hoped Godric would return soon so she could leave and not have to continue to lie to Uther. She was instrumental in Salazar’s escape, she was complicit on every level of it, and should he find out…she didn’t want to think of it. She knew how Uther would feel—betrayed, hurt, humiliated.

But in the meantime, she still had to get up and face the day. At long last the bells stopped ringing, signaling to Rowena that it was time to get on with things. After a quick breakfast, she went straight to Morgana, eager to know from her rather than from Uther what was going on. Rowena didn’t want to see Uther at all, though she knew the encounter was inevitable. She didn’t want to look at him, hear his voice, feel his touch.

Morgana was more than willing to give Rowena all sorts of information about the wild morning’s activities. They sat by the window in Morgana’s room, looking out as Arthur assembled a group of knights to head out of Camelot in search of Salazar.

“Do you think they’ll find him?” Rowena asked.

“He’s a sorcerer!” Morgana crowed. “You know, in a way I’m glad he escaped.”

“Even after he disgraced you?”

“He’ll get justice eventually,” Morgana replied with a shrug. “But, I’m not going to lie, it’s been more than a little fun to watch Uther twist in the wind over this. No offence.”

“None taken,” Rowena said. “So how bad is he?”

Morgana laughed. “Uther? I haven’t seen him this riled up in ages! He yelled at everyone this morning! He even yelled at Arthur! Thankfully Arthur yelled back. I wouldn’t have expected any less.”

“Does anyone know what happened? How Salazar managed to escape?”

“Well, he must have put some sort of sleeping spell on the guards, and then, well, I’m not really sure. Gaius thinks he probably got hold of the keys magically and let himself out.”

“What do you think?” Rowena asked, curious.

“I think he probably…you know…poof!” Morgana snapped her fingers.

“Poof?”

“Poof! Vanished!”

Rowena’s eyes widened. “Is that possible? I mean, do you really think Salazar has that ability?”

Morgana shrugged. “Well, it’s just a theory. I know some sorcerers have that ability. I wish I did.”

Rowena scowled. “Don’t we all.”

“I hope they don’t catch him, though,” Morgana said. “You know, Rowena, there’s a growing movement out there, amongst our own kind, who want to start a revolution against Uther.”

Rowena raised her eyebrows in alarm. “You mean to overthrow him?”

“Exactly! Then you and I and so many others can be free to be ourselves!” Morgana sighed deeply. “He told me once, Salazar, that is, that there are those who wish to completely overthrow the entire nonmagical world, to rule all the kingdoms by the old religion.”

Rowena frowned at that. “Is that what you want? Wouldn’t it be better for them to have their world and for us to have our own, separate world?”

“But that can’t be done! We all share the same space, the same land!” Morgana protested. “Someone has to lead! Why not us for a change?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple, Morgana,” Rowena replied. “Do you really think that someone like Salazar is capable of being a just ruler?”

Morgana looked away. “Well, maybe not him.”

“You know, Morgana, just because someone doesn’t have magic, that doesn’t mean they’re somehow unfit to rule.”

Morgana smirked. “You mean they’re not all like Uther Pendragon.”

“Interpret it how you will.”

“No, you’re right,” Morgana conceded. “I know that Arthur will do well, that is, as long as he has Merlin around to keep him out of trouble.”

“Merlin?” Rowena exclaimed. “Why Merlin?”

Morgana threw her a puzzled look. “You do know he has magic, don’t you?”

Rowena narrowed her eyes at her. “How do you know this? Who told you?”

“Salazar, of course.”

“Who else did he tell?”

“No one, as far as I know.”

“Morgana, you know that…”

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, Rowena. His secret is very safe with me. No one wants to see Merlin get into trouble, I mean, we all love Merlin!” 

* * * * *

Where was he? When would Godric return to Camelot? Rowena hoped that Salazar continued to be cooperative and didn’t give Godric much trouble. She feared that Salazar might try to escape and return to Camelot to finish off Uther once and for all—the thought made her ill, especially after her conversation with Morgana. Rowena had assumed Morgana was loyal to Uther, regardless of anything, so to hear her friend speak this was troubled her deeply.

Uther’s foul mood didn’t make things any easier for Rowena. For three days he shut himself up in the Great Hall, admitting only Arthur, his very top knights and his most senior guards. No women, no servants, no underlings of any sort. All his energies had become entirely focused on finding the escaped wizard, though by now, the orders had changed.

“Kill him where he stands,” he told Arthur.

“Yes, sire,” Arthur answered promptly. With that, he, along with his twelve strongest knights, took off in search of Salazar, though Rowena didn’t know where.

Knowing she couldn’t ask Uther, as he was busy with maps and strategies and politics, Rowena went to Gaius, thinking he might have a clue. Together they wandered to his garden to inspect the new growth of basil…and to discuss Uther’s strategies.

“Merlin indicated before he left this morning that they headed north,” Gaius said, squatting down to pick off a slightly yellowed leaf and toss it aside.

“How far north?” Rowena asked.

“Well, to the northernmost borders of the kingdom.” 

“No farther?”

“Uther wouldn’t dare. He knows all too well that the northern kings would see any intrusion as an act of aggression and even war.”

“Goodness! Then what is to happen?”

Gaius scowled. “I’m afraid that Uther will end up being disappointed.”

“So you don’t think Salazar will be found?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you think so?”

Of course she knew, but naturally she couldn’t say a word to him. This was strictly between herself and Godric and no one else, including Merlin. After all, he couldn’t apparate himself to safety should he need to—how could Rowena endanger him like that? 

She was dying to talk to Uther, to get any idea of what he was thinking and doing, and whether he had any clue as to how Salazar might have escaped. Rowena felt fairly confident that he was completely in the dark about the whole scheme, but strangely, that brought her little peace. Maybe she was worried about Salazar’s safety—no, that couldn’t be, though his safety meant the safety of the residents of Hogsmeade. Could it be that she felt…pain…at seeing Uther so frustrated and enraged? He had Salazar under lock and key, guarded by armed men ready to kill. How could he just vanish like that?

Rowena laughed, but only briefly. Actually, she found little funny about it at all, regardless of Morgana’s attitude and beliefs. She was too close to him by now, so entirely enmeshed in every part of him that all she could see was just how right Godric was. It was time to pull herself away, and Rowena determined to make that happen. Yes, the moment she awoke tomorrow, she’d start. Yes, she was certain that she would start it then, maybe after breakfast or at the latest, after lunch.

She sighed as she picked up her basket of clippings from the garden, wondering when Godric would return to set all things right.

As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait for long. Arthur and his men returned after a week of fruitless hunting for Salazar, having absolutely nothing to report to a defeated Uther, who responded to their report by slamming his fist on the table and knocking over a half-empty goblet of wine.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Arthur said glumly.

Uther shook his head forlornly. “It’s not your fault, son. Clearly this sorcerer possesses powers that are very strong. It is likely that he has associates who keep him hidden. We’ll keep our ears open for now. I shall send out a detachment of agents to find out all they can so we can apprehend this villain. No one gets away with plotting against me or against Camelot.”

At long last readmitted to the Great Hall, Rowena busied herself watching all the people in the square from her place at the window. But as Uther gave his orders to his men, Rowena saw a strange sight—a massive, solid gold coach drawn by the most beautiful white horses she had ever seen. She let out an audible giggle, which drew an angry glare from Uther for a quick moment.

“Sorry, sire,” she said meekly.

Uther finished giving his orders and dismissed them all, but Rowena stayed put, knowing exactly what would happen in the next ten minutes…sort of. He turned towards her, still cross. Uther motioned for her to approach, but just then, another knight, Sir Corwyn, rushed in, his rosy face bemused.

“Yes?” Uther said.

“Sire, there’s a…well, there’s a…”

“Yes?” Uther said more forcefully.

“…a golden coach, the most splendid carriage I have ever beheld in my entire life.”

Rowena giggled again. Leave it to Godric, she thought, to make such an ostentatious entry.

“Lady Rowena seems to find this news amusing,” Uther said silkily. “Perhaps she would like to share the joke?”

“I’m so sorry, your majesty,” she said, laughing. “It’s just that it sounds a bit like a distant relation of mine. Lord Godric was always rather…vibrant.”

Uther frowned. “I was under the impression you had no family.”

“I have no close family, sire,” Rowena replied readily. “Lord Godric, as I said, is a distant cousin on my mother’s side. I saw him often as a small child but it’s been some time now.”

Sir Corwyn rushed to the door in order to have the guards shut it, but before he could even raise a hand, Godric swept in, in all his blazing, redheaded glory, dressed in his very finest gold and red robes. He carried with him a diamond encrusted staff, topped with a glittering ruby. Rowena knew for a fact that Godric routinely stored his wand inside it, just in case. Rowena was delighted but Uther went to far as to draw his sword, as did Sir Corwyn.

“Now then, your majesty,” Godric said in a booming basso voice. “There is no need for that. I come as a friend to Camelot!”

Uther paused, then nodded to Sir Corwyn—they both resheathed their swords.

“King Uther Pendragon, I apologise for my rather…abrupt entry into your palace. I meant no harm, truly.”

“Then you will state your business here before I have you arrested for tresspassing,” Uther demanded.

Godric eyed Rowena and continued on. “My business here concerns the Lady Rowena. My name is Lord Godric, and I come from the northern regions of the island.”

“Who is your king?” Uther asked, now curious.

“I have no king, nor do I need one,” Godric replied. “My estate is entirely independent, and my tenants are under my own rule.” Rowena smirked at that. “I have traveled a very long way to find the Lady Rowena, and now that I have, I must speak to you in private, if you will hear me, sire.”

Uther paused. “Very well. Lady Rowena, if you will excuse us?”

“Sire, I should like very much to hear what my cousin has to say, especially if it relates to me,” Rowena protested.

Uther gave her a kind look. “Do not trouble yourself, my dear. But some things must be discussed between men.”

Of course, Rowena knew exactly what would be said between them, however, she also understood that she had to let Uther believe himself to be entirely in control of the situation. But how would Uther take it? Would he fight for her to stay or would he honour the pretense of family need? Would he be angry? Confused? Grief-stricken? Would he care in the least? Rowena suspected he would care, even if, like most men she knew, he strove to conceal his deepest emotions.

Obediently, Rowena retreated to her house, where she waited patiently for Godric to bring her the results of his conversation with Uther. She hoped he would be nice to Uther, treat him with a modicum of respect despite his feelings about the king and his past actions. And she was just as eager to find out news of Salazar and Hogsmeade and all their plans. Rowena wondered what Helga Hufflepuff looked like.

Outside her window, Rowena watched Merlin, laden with pieces of Arthur’s heavy armour, sticking out higgledy-piggledy in his long, skinny arms as he stumbled past, hurrying to keep up with his master’s demanding pace. She laughed as he crashed into an apple cart first, then into a woman toting heavy buckets of water. One of the buckets nearly threw poor Merlin off his feet, but he quickly got up and moved on—she could tell he wanted to dust off the back of his trousers, but with his arms so full of armour, that was impossible.

When Godric finally arrived, hours later, he was much more composed, far more calm and relaxed. He sat the table without a word, and without his usual grin. Rowena wasn’t sure what to make of all this. She conjured a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets, which she set before him. Silently, Godric leaned forward and, with a movement of his finger, poured out very full glasses for both of them. They drank for a while, letting the quiet soften the sharp mood of the place.

Finally, Godric spoke. “I am truly humbled, Rowena,” he said.

“That’s a first. Your entrance today was hardly what one would call humble.”

Godric chuckled at that. “Uther Pendragon is truly in love with you, I believe.”

Rowena sighed. “He was upset?”

“He was heartbroken.”

That made her own heart hurt. “What happened? What did you tell him?”

“That you were called away to help with an emerging family crisis.”

“Godric…”

“It’s almost true! Anyway, I made it clear that you would be gone for quite some time.”

“How long did you say?”

Godric frowned. “Rowena, you do realise this is permanent, do you not? There’s no returning to Camelot once we’ve started our project.”

“I know that, Godric! But what did you tell Uther?”

“That the situation was extremely complex and could take an unspecified amount of time to resolve. I made it clear that this was more or less a permanent situation, at least as far as your romance is concerned.”

“Please tell me he didn’t cry, Godric.”

Godric gave her a sympathetic smile. “He did not, though I got the impression he might. I think you have changed his life, Rowena. I never would have dreamt that the fearsome Uther Pendragon would be so vulnerable.”

“Is that what humbled you?” She took a long drink from her goblet and poured herself more wine.

“I never knew he was capable of…tenderness or wisdom, but apparently he is. Perhaps that is what will save him in the end.”

“Perhaps.”


	16. Rowena's Final Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“My lord,” she said politely._
> 
> _“Is that what you call me now?” he replied, still not looking at her. “Not Uther?”_
> 
> _“Very well then, Uther. I was concerned for you.”_
> 
> _He grunted at that. “Thought I was rending my garments and tearing out my hair?”_
> 
> _“I wasn’t sure what you were doing. I feared you were simply ill.”_
> 
> _Uther stood up, turning to face her with…a strange, inscrutable expression in his green eyes. “I was not ill.”_
> 
> _“Well that is good to hear.”_
> 
> _“I was deciding.”_
> 
> _“Deciding what?”_
> 
> _“Deciding what to do about you.”_
> 
> _“Uther, you do know I cannot stay here. Godric made it quite clear that…”_
> 
> _He waved his hand, cutting her off. “You have touched upon the very core of my dilemma, I think. You leave tomorrow morning, never to return to Camelot, which is why I cannot fully justify having you arrested and executed.”_

“No admittance, my lady.”

“But I need to see him. It is an urgent matter.”

“Sorry, my lady. The king made it clear that he is receiving no one this evening.”

So there.

It was the same the next evening, and the following morning, Uther Pendragon was nowhere to be found. Not in his rooms, not in the Great Hall, not watching over his knights nor conferring with his advisors. Perhaps he went for a long walk. Perhaps he decided to camp out in the woods, accompanied only by his manservant. But no. Rowena saw Uther’s manservant heading towards the kitchens, but not on an errand for his master.

She was ready to search high and low for Uther, but unfortunately, there was too much to do. The prospect of packing up her house, which she had occupied for such a long time now, seemed daunting, even though she would use magic for much of it. This time, however, she would not be at liberty to stow all her furniture into her charmed bags—all of Camelot would expect to see her and Godric leave as anyone else would, with a cart carrying all her larger belongings.

“You could leave them behind,” Godric suggested.

“These are my father’s things,” Rowena replied. “I can’t just leave them.”

“Apparating with all that stuff will be a pain.”

“Don’t worry, Godric. I’ll take care of it once we’re far enough away from Camelot.”

Lots of people came by to visit, to see how things were going, to say good-bye. Morgana came often, not so much to help out but simply to spend time with her lady-in-waiting. She had taken the news very badly, and Rowena could sense that Morgana simply didn’t want her to leave, despite her explanations. Rowena decided for the moment that it was best not to tell Morgana the full truth of their enterprise—as much as she loved her friend, she wasn’t entirely sure she could trust Morgana, seeing how eager Morgana was to participate in a magical revolution against the entire muggle world.

Merlin came by as well, looking forsaken and abandoned.

“If you learn to apparate, Merlin,” Rowena told him, “you can come and visit any time you want.”

Merlin nodded. “Do it still make you…nauseated?”

“Not for ages.” Rowena laughed. “You just have to get used to it. I’ll even apparate down to that cave and teach you personally!”

Merlin’s face brightened. “You would do that? Just for me?”

“Of course! Once you get the gist of it, you can come to Hogwarts whenever you wish!”

Merlin laughed like a delighted child, but soon, he became downcast once again.

“What?” Rowena asked, placing a hand on his arm.

Merlin sighed. “It’s just…having someone else around here who…understands…I’m really going to miss you, Rowena. You’ve been my magical touchstone.”

“And you’ve been mine, Merlin. You always will be, no matter how far away I might be. You’re the one who will set things right, so just know that and all you can to be very good to Arthur…and even to Uther.”

“I heard he’s missing,” Merlin said.

“I don’t know what he’s doing, to be honest,” Rowena replied. “I can understand his being upset at my departure, but I never thought he’d take it this hard.”

“I think you changed him, at least a little.”

Rowena shrugged. “I guess I did.”

Uther’s whereabouts, however, became very clear the following morning…the morning of Rowena’s last day in Camelot. In many ways it was a normal morning for Rowena, especially as Godric was staying in the palace guest quarters. Still, Godric came straight to Rowena’s house directly after breakfast, ready to pitch in and help her get the ornate chairs onto the cart that Arthur ordered hitched to the back of Godric’s golden carriage. His preference would have been to use his wand, but with palace guards there by order of Arthur to help with the heavy lifting, any use of magic was impossible.

In the midst of all the commotion and confusion and noise, another guard arrived at the house, eager to speak with Rowena.

“A summons, my lady,” he said respectfully. “To the royal gardens. His majesty wishes to see you directly. Lord Godric, the king has invited you to watch the knights’ training today, or if you wish, even to participate.”

“Hmm, I have haven’t wielded a sword in quite some time,” Godric said playfully. “Perhaps I should take part.”

“Just don’t stab anyone,” Rowena laughed. “I can’t have you arrested for murder on my last day!”

Godric thus went his way, following the guard to the knights’ training, whereas a slightly nervous Rowena took a slow, deliberate walk to the gardens, unsure of what she would say or how she would handle Uther’s strong emotions.

* * * * *

She found him crouched low, carefully examining a rose bloom, looking at its depths almost scientifically. Though he did not turn to face her when she approached, Rowena still gave him a modest curtsey.

“My lord,” she said politely.

“Is that what you call me now?” he replied, still not looking at her. “Not Uther?”

“Very well then, Uther. I was concerned for you.”

He grunted at that. “Thought I was rending my garments and tearing out my hair?”

“I wasn’t sure what you were doing. I feared you were simply ill.”

Uther stood up, turning to face her with…a strange, inscrutable expression in his green eyes. “I was not ill.”

“Well that is good to hear.”

“I was deciding.”

“Deciding what?”

“Deciding what to do about you.”

“Uther, you do know I cannot stay here. Godric made it quite clear that…”

He waved his hand, cutting her off. “You have touched upon the very core of my dilemma, I think. You leave tomorrow morning, never to return to Camelot, which is why I cannot fully justify having you arrested and executed.”

“WHAT? EXECUTED!!! For what?” she shouted, horrified. How could he know? Who betrayed her?

Uther narrowed his eyes at her. “You know damn well for what, witch.”

Rowena’s blood ran cold. “What? Who made such an accusation?”

“No one,” Uther replied coolly. “I may be an old soldier, but I do have at least a little intelligence.”

“Of course you do! You one of the cleverest men I know.”

“During Arthur’s trial, when Salazar accused you of being the daughter of Lorcan Ravenclaw, I said that I had killed him ten years before the Purge. That would have been two years or so before you were born, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I believed what I said, you know. I even have a clear picture of him lying in a pool of blood, shot by an arrow, by my arrow. I believe I really did kill him—I remember it! I would have been about seventeen at the time, give or take a few months, yet this is the crux of the problem. You see, Rowena, I know for a fact that I killed a man for the very first time when I was nineteen.”

Rowena suddenly found that she couldn’t breathe. How could she have been so stupid? But of course, she was in a crisis situation! Uther had killed many men in his career as prince, warrior and king, so why not add Lorcan to the long list?

But Uther went on. “I even remember the man’s face. I had snuck out of the palace to go drinking with my friends on my nineteenth birthday, but I ended up getting into a barfight with a farmer. He actually managed to stab me in the shoulder with a dagger, but I…stabbed him in the heart with my own dagger. My father was upset with me for sneaking out, and he was enraged that I had shown regret for what I did.”

“Uther, I…”

“But I was also confused by what Arthur said during his trial,” Uther continued. “He exposed Salazar for what he was, however, I cannot think of how he knew the name Slytherin.”

“I thought they were notorious.”

“They were, but Arthur was a mere infant at the time. I have always been careful about not discussing those days with my son, so there is no way he ever would have known that name unless someone somehow implanted that in his mind and modified his memory.”

Rowena struggled to find something to say, anything at all, but Uther wasn’t finished.

“These last couple of days, after thinking and praying and grappling with my conscience, I decided to do a bit of research, to find out the truth of who and what you are,” he said. “I made a visit to the royal archives to check the records. You know, Camelot keeps excellent records of births, deaths, marriages, executions, migrations and so forth. I found that in the census taken four years before the Purge, there indeed was a Ravenclaw family, father Lorcan, mother Mariam, and daughter Rowena.”

“Uther…”

“After the Purge, about two years after, that is, I had another census taken, and there were no Ravenclaws at all. I further looked at the list of those executed in the Purge, and again, I saw no Ravenclaws, though I did see every Slytherin except Salazar. Thus, I came to the conclusion that the Ravenclaws left Camelot before the Purge. Does that sound plausible, Rowena?”

All she could do was nod. “I…I don’t know what to say, Uther.”

“A statement is not required from you,” Uther replied coldly. He turned away for a moment. “How old were you when your father died?”

She hesitated. “When I was twenty-three. Six years ago, or a little more.”

Uther responded with a smirk. “Figures. How?”

“Arrow to the chest. Hunters.”

“An accident?”

Rowena nodded. “Uther, I was put into a position where I had to act. I knew what Salazar was, but at first, I had no way of knowing his intentions.”

Uther glared at her. “You knew he was a sorcerer and said nothing?”

“How could I? He had you under his spell from the start! You never would have believed me and you would have cast me out, and if that had happened, I’m afraid he would have killed Arthur and enslaved you!”

“That’s nonsense,” Uther spat. “You think I took leave of my senses?”

“It’s not your fault! It took a little time, but it soon became clear to me that he had you under the Imperius curse so that you did his bidding! You had no way of knowing this, and it was I who released you from it! Twice!”

Uther’s eyes widened. “Finite incantatum.”

“Exactly. I’m sorry I lied to you about its meaning, but honestly, Uther, you asked me a question I could not have answered truthfully. I never wanted you to know you had been enchanted because you had shown such public admiration for Salazar. Everyone did.”

“Everyone but you.”

“There was no other way, Uther. Only another witch or wizard could have helped you.”

“Did he know what you are?”

Rowena didn’t want to answer, but this was no time for holding back any longer. “He did. He also knew I was loyal to Camelot, which is why he…used you to try to get rid of me. Under the Imperius curse, you were directed, so to speak, to seduce me.”

“Rowena…”

“Please, Uther, let me finish. Getting romantically entangled with the witch daughter of Lorcan Ravenclaw would have been an extreme humiliation for you, or so Salazar believed, and I think he hoped you would take out your anger on me by having me executed.”

Uther reddened. “This is preposterous.”

“I never wanted you to be humiliated like that because…I fell in love with you…and if you ever knew what I was…” Rowena couldn’t go on. Tears streamed down her face, but she was too mortified to whisk them away.

Uther paced frenetically back and forth, searching for some response. “Then why…why am I still feeling this way about you?” he asked, frustrated. “My heart is crushed but now, with all this talk of seduction and curses, I don’t know what to think because I’m still in love with you! Am I under an illusion even now?”

“No, Uther,” Rowena replied. She hung her head. “You are entirely yourself, and you have been for some time.”

“How can I believe that? How do I know this isn’t some new spell of yours?”

“Because I’m not after power,” Rowena assured him. “Uther, if I sought your throne, trust me, I would have had it long ago. But as you see, I’m leaving tomorrow, even though I wish I could stay with you.” She paused. “Yes, I did use magic, but to help you and to free Arthur. I never used it to cause harm. I know you hate all magic, but you must believe me that I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

Uther drew close to her. “Then what are we to do?” He caressed her face, drying the tears away.

“Let me go.”

He leaned forward to kiss her, gathering her in his arms once again, but just as quickly, he pulled away. “Never return here,” he said. With that he walked away, out of the garden, back to the security of the palace, leaving Rowena to wonder what had just happened.

* * * * *

To her amazement, Uther threw a grand feast in honour of Rowena and Godric, to wish them well on their journey to the north. Everyone was there, the entire court and even a few commoners. Hortensia and her kitchen staff laid an excellent table for the revelers, and Uther had ordered entertainment for all his guests, including musicians who played as the partygoers danced into the late hours of the evening.

Rowena couldn’t remember a happier, more festive evening, perhaps made more so because it was to be her last evening in Camelot. She would miss so much of Camelot, she thought as she broke from the crowd to get some fresh air and a little quiet. She would miss Merlin and his sweet, bumbling ways, and she would miss Arthur’s sometimes bratty gentility…and she would miss Uther. Rowena wondered what would have become of them had she stayed, especially as he had figured out her secret.

“What are you thinking about?” Uther said from the far end of the portico. She could feel his presence behind her, and as he approached, her heart skipped a beat.

“You.”

He laughed. “Pining already?”

“Just like you are.” Rowena wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She could feel power within him, and though it wasn’t magic, it was something palpable, formidable, something to be respected.

“So I suppose this means I won’t be arresting you,” he said.

She gave him a quick kiss. “You do realise there’s no way to imprison me. Only magical means could do so.”

“Well I can’t have you becoming a fugitive,” he said. 

They kissed again warmly, like old lovers. Rowena couldn’t help but feel so safe just then, regardless of the fact that he knew exactly what she was. She rested in that sense of security, wishing to wrap it about her like a familiar garment. He could kill her on the spot, yet he didn’t. He could call for her to be flogged in the public square, but instead, he showered her neck and shoulders with soft kisses, as if he never knew a thing. Rowena wondered at that, and her heart broke all the more knowing that she would have to leave his embrace.

“Uther,” she whispered, “I know there’s another woman out there for you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I just want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone who’s clever, wise, very beautiful.”

Uther laughed. “Beautiful? More beautiful than you?”

“Oh yes, much more! We can’t have you marrying a troll or anything!”

He laughed again. “Well, I will try to avoid marrying a troll! Somehow, I believe that should be quite easy. The smell is usually a dead giveaway.”

“What about Arthur?” Rowena asked.

“I don’t think Arthur will marry a troll either.”

“No, silly! Just…look after him. He’s a good man.”

Uther nodded, smiling at the thought.

“Of course, he had a good father,” Rowena added.

“Rowena, come to my rooms tonight,” Uther said.

“We can’t do that, Uther. It wouldn’t be right.”

“It would be! Rowena, I think of you as…if you had stayed, it would have been my honour to make you my queen. You asked me to find another woman, but that is not possible.”

“But I’m leaving! I can’t stay! It wouldn’t be fair!”

He nodded. “I know. Still, in my mind, in my heart, you are my queen, regardless.”

“But I’m a witch. If we had children, they would have magic as well. It wouldn’t be right, don’t you see? It would be a scandal!”

“Come to me tonight, Rowena.”

She wanted to, desperately. She wanted him to have his rights over her, she had to admit, even if they weren’t married. As much as Uther apparently thought of her as a spouse, Rowena had thought of him in the same way. If only she could stay. Just as Uther had to decide what to do about her, Rowena found that she now had to do the same thing. Would it be moral? Would it be fair? What if something happened? What then?

Rowena decided not to return to the party, instead making her way along corridors, up the staircase, heading slowly, deliberately towards…


	17. Epilogue: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The morning sun woke her from a long, languid slumber in her soft bed. Rowena grunted lightly as she stretched her arms and legs and fingers and toes. She rubbed her face and sat up slowly, getting her bearings. Her body felt strange that morning, a little off somehow, but Rowena decided to dismiss it. She’d felt the same way for the last couple of days but found that once she was up and dressed and ready to go, she felt fine._

The morning sun woke her from a long, languid slumber in her soft bed. Rowena grunted lightly as she stretched her arms and legs and fingers and toes. She rubbed her face and sat up slowly, getting her bearings. Her body felt strange that morning, a little off somehow, but Rowena decided to dismiss it. She’d felt the same way for the last couple of days but found that once she was up and dressed and ready to go, she felt fine.

Today would be yet another busy day, just as every day had been since her arrival at Hogwarts nearly two months prior. Rowena had been placed in charged of communicating with the people of Hogsmeade, as Godric was too bombastic, Helga too shy and Salazar too…Salazar. No one trusted Salazar even remotely enough to place him in charge of communications, especially after what Morgana had said to Rowena about potential revolutions and a takeover of the muggle world. Salazar would just have to learn his place, and that was that.

From the moment she came to Hogwarts, Rowena found herself bombarded with work, work, work. On top of that, Rowena found herself face to face with a fresh-faced Salazar Slytherin, now dressed in black wizard’s robes rather than in knight’s chainmail and tunic. For a full week, Rowena couldn’t bring herself to say a single word to Salazar—she could barely look at him. Fortunately, Salazar didn’t try to push his luck. He kept a respectful distance from her, perhaps because he was constantly under the watchful eye of Godric.

They had come to a few conclusions these last several weeks. The larger living quarters would be converted into dormitories, with five beds per room. Each set of living quarters would be governed by a single adult—Godric thought it best that the four of them, himself, Rowena, Helga and Salazar, each take a house.

“To keep a careful watch on our charges,” Godric explained.

All agreed, though Salazar was a bit more reluctant than the others—his reluctance, however, was cured by a fierce glare from Godric. They were in less agreement with how many other adults would come to Hogwarts as teachers, and even less in agreement with what subjects they should cover. Rowena briefly considered inviting Merlin to come to Hogwarts to teach Charms, but quickly put that idea out of her mind altogether. Better to cut herself off completely from Camelot, that is, except for the occasional lesson in apparation that she still gave to Merlin, in the secrecy of the cave.

That morning, Rowena made her way out of her suite in what by now had been dubbed Ravenclaw Tower, taking the moveable staircase down to the Great Hall where the House Elves had once again laid out a beautiful breakfast. It felt good to Rowena to use her full name once again, to lay claim to what had been hers all along. Weeks without hiding or lying or cutting herself off was a welcome relief to Rowena and indeed, she had thrived since she left Camelot. Leaving Uther had been heartbreaking, to be sure, but now that she was here and finally using her gifts for the greater good of all wizardkind, Rowena had started to feel…useful and necessary. No longer Uther’s mistress or Morgana’s confidante, Rowena found that she could define herself by her own actions and values. 

She liked that.

Breakfast tasted a little odd that morning, but Rowena couldn’t pay attention to that. She had promised Merlin to apparate that night to their cave so they could continue his apparation lessons. He had come a long way by now, and had only splinched himself once, leaving behind the tip of his left thumbnail. Rowena had been very impressed by his progress and in fact, was eager to tell him that he was ready to apparate all the way to Hogwarts. She just wished she felt better.

Even Godric noticed that Rowena was looking a bit…green.

“You alright, Rowena?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Rowena replied. “I think I’m coming down with the flu.”

“Maybe you should skip today’s Hogsmeade meeting, stay indoors. I can go.”

“Nonsense, I’ll be fine.” But then her stomach lurched dangerously. Excusing herself from the table, Rowena dashed from the Great Hall, making only as far as a rather elegant, very tall urn—she threw herself over it and retched violently.

Godric chased after her, horrified by the sight. “Well, I was meaning to get rid of that urn,” he quipped.

“I’m so sorry…” She retched again.

Godric helped her back to her rooms, then rushed to get some cool water and a soft cloth. Rowena lay back in her bed, her stomach still aching from being so sick all of a sudden. She felt dizzy and ill, and even when a worried Godric bathed her face with the cool, damp cloth, Rowena wanted to get sick all over again.

“It’s odd,” Godric mused. “How could you have gotten this ill? No one else is sick.”

“I don’t…” Rowena paused. She started counting back the…but surely not! It was only one time! Once! That was it!

Godric furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Uther.”

“I’m sorry…what?”

“Godric! Uther and I…my last night at Camelot and…”

Godric blanched. “Oh my gods,” he murmured. “Rowena, what are you going to do?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?”

“Are you sure? Maybe it was something you ate!”

“No, Godric, I’m sure.”

“Helga can confirm it for you but…what about Salazar?”

“Oh dear.”

Godric nodded. “If he knows you’re having Uther Pendragon’s child…”

“What do I do?” A wild panic tore through her, making her stomach lurch once again. She grabbed a bowl, but nothing happened.

Godric frowned. “Maybe we can tell him it’s someone else’s. Maybe Arthur’s?”

“That’s almost worse!”

“Merlin’s?”

“Merlin’s? That’s just insane.”

“Well it’s not like you can exactly hide it, Rowena!” Godric snapped. “And you know Salazar will just use it against you to make you look bad!”

“I know, I know! Godric, I’m so sorry! It was one time! I wasn’t exactly thinking about the consequences.”

“Well you have to now.”

Rowena took a long drink of water and pondered a moment. “We’ll find a way, Godric. I promise.”

“You want me to meet Merlin for you tonight?”

“Would you? You know, Godric, Merlin is very impressed with you. You’re a bit of a hero to him.”

Godric laughed. “Just rest today. We’ve got nine months…”

“Seven.”

“We’ve got seven months to find a solution.”

Right. A solution.

A child! Uther’s child! Arthur’s brother…or sister. What would this mean? Rowena laid in bed the rest of the day, but couldn’t rest. All she could think about was this new little life growing within her, this perpetual link to her past love which now would always remain in the present. What would this child look like? Would he…or she have Uther’s green eyes or her own, dark eyes? Would she be blond like Arthur or raven-haired like herself? She…or he would be half-blooded. Would that matter? Would anyone in Hogsmeade care whether a witch or wizard was anything less than pureblooded? Rowena hoped not. Then again, should they discover that this child was the offspring of Uther Pendragon, Salazar might not be the only one outraged and betrayed. No, a story was needed. Another lie.

For now, though, Rowena decided to put all these worries to rest. They’d crop up again sooner than she wanted, so she felt that she deserved at least a modicum of peace until then. Until then, she’d think about names and baby clothes and when exactly her child would receive his…or her first wand. 

She’d worry tomorrow, but not today. Today was for fond memories and great hopes…and for true love.


End file.
